A Simple Twist of Fate
by Orison
Summary: "You should go, Danny. The whole building is unstable. This floor could collapse at any moment." "Forget about it." "Danny…" "That's what you said when that bomb was threatening to wipe us both off the face of the earth, remember? It goes both ways, buddy. I'm not gonna leave you."
1. Chapter 1

**A Simple Twist of Fate**

A/N: Hello, everyone! Looks like my brain can't stay still for too long… ready for another ride?

This is a case fic so there's a bit of everything – bad guys, team work, friendship, and of course the ever-present (in my stories at least) whump. I do know what fangirls like to read and would never deprive you of that. ;)

You will also meet a female original character but fear not, she is in no way a threat to either of the boys. I like them just like they are now, with no girlfriends attached, so she's only a means to an end, to get them where I needed them to be.

Hope you enjoy this first chapter. I'd love to know what you think. Depending on how well the story's received, I'll try to post more than once a week.

* * *

 **Prologue**

Three seconds.

Sara Patterson had no idea that her already bruised heart could shatter again in such a small amount of time.

Three damn seconds. That's all it took for her to process what the voice at the other end of the line was saying.

The coffee she was holding fell from her hand, spilling all over the desk and down on the floor but she willed herself to keep listening, fighting the wave of panic that was tearing at her.

She stood there for a long moment after the phone call ended, frozen in the quiet stillness that had enveloped the room, watching the brown stain on the carpet grow larger and larger until things suddenly fell into a daze and she blindly reached for her purse, heading out of the office.

Her friend and co-worker Susan Harris spotted her as soon as she stepped into the hallway. "Hey Sara! You're not gonna believe what Michelle just told me," she teased, an amused glint in her eyes.

Sara waved her off and kept walking. "I don't have time for this, Susan, I gotta go."

"What? Where?" the other girl asked, trying to catch up. How could she not be interested in the latest, juicy office gossip? She grabbed her arm, hoping at least to slow her down. "What's going on?" Standing closer, she finally noticed the teary eyes and distraught expression and her tone immediately changed from annoyed to concerned. "Honey, are you alright?"

Sara stopped and sighed, unable to hide the anguish from her face. "Look, I can't talk to you right now. I need to go." The words had barely left her mouth and she was already running out the door, her pace quick and steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside.

"What about Andrew?" Susan wondered aloud, hands on her hips, thinking about their boss and what would undoubtedly be his not-too-pleased reaction to the fact that she was leaving work without permission. Receiving no answer, she shrugged and went back to her office. Whatever it was, she would hear about it later. She always did.

Outside, an uncertain sun slipped in and out of clouds, bathing the afternoon in a dim light. An unusually cold wind blew in powerful gusts, dragging around discarded papers and crumpled leaves.

Sara shivered, wiping a few, strand tears with the back of her hand. She looked around, her expression lost as she scanned her surroundings until she spotted what she was looking for and hurriedly crossed the street.

She was so focused on her destination that she barely noticed the truck coming from the left until it braked just inches from her. An angry horn blared a second later and she jumped, her gaze locking on the startled driver.

They stared at each other for a long moment, hearts slamming into their chests, before Sara broke the spell and started walking again, vanishing amongst the swarm of pedestrians.

None of those people spared her a second glance while they leisurely strolled along the sidewalks, laughing noisily and taking pictures of Oahu's breathtaking views and attractions. Unbeknownst to all, as the breeze kept fluttering around that January afternoon, the truck slowly resumed its ride and the streets came alive in typical Friday fashion, the island revealed its dark, hidden side and swallowed another soul.

* * *

 **Chapter one**

"Hey, move the damn truck!"

Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett smacked the steering wheel. Hard.

He was supposed to meet up with his partner ten minutes before but had been considerably slowed down for the last couple of blocks by a delivery truck whose driver was apparently having a worse morning than him maneuvering through Downtown Honolulu.

"Come on, man, come on…" he muttered, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. He hated being late, even when he was notified last-minute on a Saturday morning.

The call had come in exactly two hours and thirty-two minutes after he'd collapsed on the couch at five in the morning, mentally and physically drained by their last case, the gruesome death of a child at the hands of his own father. The kind of case that leaves you cold inside and longing either for some human touch or a bottle of Jack Daniels. Or in Steve's case, a five-mile swim into the ocean, which had been exactly the plan before he'd passed out from exhaustion.

He briefly considered flashing his badge to the idiot that had double-parked in front of a store but quickly dismissed the though when he spotted a patrol car approaching. Let the uniforms deal with him. He had no time to waste.

According to Duke's call, the victim they were supposed to investigate on was a relative of an HPD officer. He didn't have all the details but already knew what that meant: extra pressure from the Governor and unwelcome attention on the media.

Frowning at what would undoubtedly be another difficult case and deciding he'd had enough, Steve turned on the lights to signal his presence and the rush he was in and steered left, guiding the tires on that side of the vehicle over the sidewalk and around the halted truck, effectively bypassing it.

He drove the rest of the way at full speed to make up for the lost time and reached his destination in record time, stopping his Silverado to the curb behind one of the cruisers already crowding the area. Wasting no time getting out of the vehicle he approached his partner, Detective Danny Williams, who was standing by his own car, phone pressed to his ear.

The blond detective greeted him with a ' _took you long enough, Steven'_ gesture, his free arm waving through the air in annoyance. Steve rolled his eyes, deciding not to voice the comeback that was about to escape his lips. Their last case had hit Danny hard, and frustrating rants were how he dealt with stress and difficult situations.

Waving him off, he took a few steps forward and focused on the scene in front of him.

The buildings on the residential street they'd been called to were mostly studios and one-bedroom apartments tightly packed together, a usually quiet neighborhood in the downtown area that was now experiencing the frenzy of activity of a crime scene.

A few officers were securing the scene as best as they could, cordoning off the perimeter with yellow crime scene tape as the air around them crackled with static and metallic voices sputtering from their radios.

Danny held out one hand to get his attention. "Alright, keep me posted. Steve and I are going inside."

"What do we got?" Steve asked, following his partner toward the entrance of the building.

"Sara Marie Patterson, 28. Brother reported her missing when he showed up an hour ago and found her place ransacked."

"Kidnapping?"

"Not sure. But this guy's a cop so Duke called in a favor. You know what it's like when it's family."

Steve nodded. "You know him?"

"I don't, but I've heard good things about him."

They climbed the two flights of stairs to apartment 2B and paused at the top of the staircase where Sergeant Duke Lukela was waiting for them. His grim expression told them this wasn't just a regular B&E and that the woman was part of their family as much as her brother.

"Duke, what can you tell us?" Steve asked, putting a comforting hand on the older man's shoulder.

"This is a very grave situation, Steve," the Hawaiian Sergeant said, getting straight to the point. "I'm trusting Five-0 to do whatever is in its power to find out what happened here."

"You have my word."

"My officers and I are ready to offer our full cooperation."

"We appreciate that," Steve replied. "Do you personally know Ms. Patterson?"

Lukela folded his arms across his chest. "Yes. Her father was HPD too. I went to the Academy with him. I've known Sara since she was a kid."

"So you think it's safe to rule out drugs or a runaway situation?"

"Absolutely. She would've never walked away from her family." He paused for a moment, letting the words linger in the air. "Follow me. I think the evidence will speak for itself."

The man's tone held such a confidence that Steve instantly believed him. Duke was the voice of reason, one of HPD's best. A kind man, feared by criminals and respected by peers, who always knew when to use his authority or give out friendly advices. If he trusted the woman, then she was most definitely worthy of that belief.

Falling in stride next to him the two partners stared at each other, sharing the same concerns without even speaking a word. It was still too early to make assumptions after all.

"Hey guys," a familiar voice halted them in their tracks.

"Anything?" Danny asked as one of Five-0's younger recruits, Tani Rey, walked towards them.

"Not much," she admitted. "But one of the neighbors says she saw Sara coming home with some guy yesterday afternoon. I told her to go down to the Station so we can get a description."

"That's good," Steve nodded.

"I've also been talking to the girl's brother," she continued, pointing to a young man standing by the apartment's door. "He's convinced she didn't come home from work last night."

Four sets of eyes turned to stare at him.

Officer Josh Patterson was a small person, no more than five-eight, but there was something about him that filled the space around him. Trim, athletic, with close-cropped hair and a five-o'-clock shadow, he struck Steve as the kind of man who'd once walked the fine line that separates a cop from a criminal but had never actually crossed it and now wore the uniform with pride, still believing that in the end, good guys always win.

Realizing to be the focus of the group's attention, the man ran a hand through his hair and headed in their direction.

"These are Commander McGarrett and Detective Williams from Five-0," Duke informed him.

Steve shook his hand. "Sergeant Lukela was filling us in but I'd like to hear it from you if you don't mind," he stated as he came to stand on Patterson's left. Danny mirrored his posture on the opposite side.

"My sister's gone," the officer said flatly. "Something happened to her last night. She- we were supposed to meet up this morning to buy a gift for our mother's birthday but she didn't show up so I thought- you know, that she'd overslept or something." He leaned against the wall, hands thrust deep inside his pockets. "I tried calling her but she didn't answer so I tried her work 'cause sometimes she works extra hours on Saturdays and this scumbag, he tells me if I find her, to tell her she's fired. Says she left without saying a word and he won't tolerate that. That's when I knew something was wrong." He turned to meet Steve's gaze. "She would never do that."

"Where does she work?" Danny inquired.

"Jeffries & Gaynes. Law firm on Bishop."

"Do you know if she was having problems, something that might explain why she disappeared like that?"

The young man shook his head. "Not that I know of."

Silence stretched for a moment. Steve folded his arms across his chest, not liking the picture that was being painted. His gut was telling him that something had happened to the young woman, and he had every intention to make sure this case didn't end up with another death.

"Josh… can I call you Josh?" He waited for the man's consent before continuing. "Are you and your sister close?"

Patterson's lips parted into a weak smile. "I like to think we are, but I know there's a lot of stuff she probably doesn't tell me. She's been living on her own for over ten years, and between our schedules it's not easy to catch up. But she knows I'm there, and I know she'd come to me if she had a problem. That much I'm sure of," he finished, feeling his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. His face fell as he glanced at the caller ID. "My mother… What the hell am I supposed to tell her?" he whispered, a lost expression in his eyes.

Steve's gaze dropped. He was all too familiar with this part, having been on both ends of devastating news like this before. Memories of uniforms knocking on his doors and of his own sister locked in a trunk suddenly overwhelmed his tired mind, rendering him speechless. He wished he could offer the man a word of comfort but was unable to find any.

"We'll try to find some answers for you, alright?" Danny chimed in, sensing his friend's discomfort.

Officer Patterson wearily dragged a hand down his grief-lined face and excused himself to answer his phone. A second later, Duke muttered a " _keep me posted_ " and walked away as well, Tani hot on his heels.

Taking advantage of the brief moment of solitude, Danny brushed his hand lightly over Steve's back. "Hey, you alright?" He knew better than to display concern at a crime scene in front of other people and fellow law enforcement officials, but he'd become a master at discreetly checking on his partner without drawing any attention or driving him mad.

The former SEAL nodded, a whispered _'yeah'_ the only acknowledgment before he swiped at his face and headed towards apartment 2G, determined to find at least a few of those answers.

The place was small, a one-bed apartment with a side view on the canal that looked as if it had been hit by a tornado: tables overturned, chairs toppled, books, CDs and other ornaments scattered haphazardly on the ground.

He moved further inside the living room, careful not to break any item or step on whatever evidence might be left as he surveyed the damage.

A trail of blood ran across the living room, so small you could barely notice it in all that mess. Steve kneeled down to take a better look at it just as Danny and Doctor Noelani Cunha stepped inside.

"Gravitational drops," the Hawaiian ME stated as she inspected the small, crimson stains. They grew larger as they neared the hallway, indicating whoever had left them was moving towards the front door and standing as they bled.

Steve took a couple of steps forward, following the trail. And there it was, the smear of a hand on the wall just above the light switch. He pointed upward to one of the artworks on the wall, its broken glass what had probably cut through flesh.

"Over here!" he called out. "Someone threw a punch here."

"Or was slammed against it," Danny suggested, coming to stand next to him. "Take a picture," he instructed one of the techs, then turned to Steve again. "I'll check the bedroom."

The Five-0 leader nodded and headed back to the living room. His expert eyes scanned every surface, object and piece of furniture, committing the scene to memory. Other than the obvious mess, nothing in the apartment seemed to point to a specific suspect or was enough to give them any indication about the woman's whereabouts. They'd have to wait for the forensic team to complete their exams. Whatever secret the evidence might hold, it would hopefully be revealed to them back at the lab.

What he needed now was a cup of black coffee and a few ibuprofens to get through the day. _Or maybe not_ , he thought to himself as his stomach growled in protest, not thrilled by the prospect of downing medications without food.

"Danny, you finished?"

He'd heard his partner answer another phone call and wondered if it was related to the case so he decided not to wait for an answer and joined him in the bedroom, which seemed to be in much better condition than the rest of the apartment. A bunch of clothes had been taken out of the closet and were now lying in a heap on the floor but besides that, it looked like the intruder had either not been interested in this room or was interrupted by something –or someone.

"That, uh… that was Lou," the Jersey detective informed him, pointing to the device in his hand. "He's expecting us back at the office. The Governor's already breathing down our neck, so this case gets top priority."

Steve shook his head. "Great. Nothing better than the top elected official in the state watching your every move. Let's go."

Turning around, his gaze was drawn to a picture stuck in the frame of the mirror over the dresser. He leaned closer to take a better look at it and froze. Three smiling faces stared back at him, and two of them were familiar.

He took the photo in his hands. "Danny…" His voice betrayed a hint of distress as he looked at the young woman sitting between two men. "I need to tell you something."

They had just found the first piece of the puzzle.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

A/N: So it looks like you guys found this intriguing enough to give me a chance, and I couldn't be happier. Thank you so much for the feedback, everyone. You may not realize it, but it is the force that drives us to write more so even if it's a couple of words if you like something, please let the author know.

This said, here's the second chapter. The story needs to be set up properly, but I promise the good part is just around the corner. Next chapter should be up Saturday.

Some of you have been wondering who was in the picture, and I loved to read all your ideas. There was a hint in the prologue, and it will be revealed below. This was actually the idea that started it all, I had this image in my head and built the whole story around it.

I do not own anything but a pic with Alex O'Loughlin and a few H50 t-shirts. I swear that is all.

* * *

The ride to HPD had never seemed longer. Focused on his memories, Steve had barely said a word as he rode, uncharacteristically giving his partner control of the car and struggling instead to remember as much as he could about his brief encounter with the missing woman.

The picture he'd found in the apartment, picturing a smiling Sara, his brother and an older woman he assumed was the siblings' mother was still clutched in his hand, almost as if he was afraid to cut the one thread that tied him to her if he let go.

Beside him Danny had been equally silent, wondering how the unexpected turn their case had just taken would fit with the answers that the investigation was going to provide them.

Glancing at him as they exited the vehicle, the Jersey detective recognized the set jaw and darkened mood of someone who'd just been handed the burden of yet another responsibility and was doing his best to stay upright as he shouldered it.

Steve McGarrett was famous for being a reckless, self-sacrificing son of a bitch who challenged Death every chance he got and took cases a little too personally. The soldier in him often collided with the damaged young man who had lost everything a guy could possibly lose, resulting in a tendency to ride the edge of the rules for the big picture that had caused him trouble and more than a few reprimands in the past. Nonetheless, Danny cared about him deeply. After the initial shock he'd felt as their two worlds collided, he had silenced the voice in his head advising him to run as far away as he could and stuck with him, unable to tear himself from the unlikely partnership. Steve could be crazy at times, but he was the most loyal person he'd ever met and to this day, despite a few slips along the way, Danny had never regretted his decision.

"I'm telling you, man, she looked scared as hell. Her eyes were all puffy and red and she kept looking around like she was waiting for someone," Steve said as he got out of the car and darted for the Police station. "I should've stopped her… Maybe she was running from someone. Boyfriend, co-worker, could be anyone. I should've said something…"

"Easy, easy... Steve!" Danny caught up with him on the sidewalk and grabbed his arm, effectively stopping him. "You didn't know, man. And she probably would've told you it was none of your damn business so don't… don't do that."

Their eyes met and for a long, tense moment they both stood motionless, one too proud to admit he'd let another case get beneath his skin, the other almost afraid to give in to his protective instincts.

"Come on," he said, once again quick to offer his friend a guiding hand. "Let's go talk to the brother, see if he can shed some more light onto her private life."

Steve exhaled loudly, allowing himself a few more seconds to regain control of his emotions. Then he squared his shoulders and pointed to the front door, signaling that he was ready to go.

Inside the station, the front desk was buzzing with activity. They nodded at the Sergeant on duty, who was busy juggling two phones and barely acknowledged them, and made their way to Lukela's office where Patterson was already waiting, pacing like a caged animal.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, but we need to ask you a few more questions."

The young man's eyes bounced from one man to another, uncertain, then finally settled on Danny. "Did you find anything?"

"We've collected some evidence, but I can't tell you much right now."

"Then why are you here?"

"Like I said, we need to get more information about your sister," the detective replied, unimpressed with his attitude. "For starters, does she have a boyfriend?"

"No. Can't even remember the last time she had one."

"What about friends?"

"I'm not sure. She's a very private person, Detective. Doesn't go out a lot." He sat down, considering the question for a moment. "There's Susan,"

"Susan?"

"Susan Harris. They work together. And then, what's her name... Brooke. They've known each other since high school."

"Does Brooke have a last name?" Steve chimed in.

The officer shot to his feet. "What's this got to do with her disappearance?" His voice was starting to sharpen now, emotion slowly creeping in. Glancing around, he saw the matching frowns on the two Five-0 members as well as the stern disapproval in the Sergeant's eyes, and immediately regretted the outburst. "I'm sorry, I just... I can't remember her last name."

Steve put a reassuring hand on the officer's shoulder. "It's okay, Josh. We understand how difficult this can be. Now, is there anyone else she might confide in?"

"I don't know." Placing one hand on his hip and rubbing the base of his neck with the other he resumed his pacing, too wound up to sit down again. "I mean, you could try my mother, but I doubt Sara would tell her anything that might upset her."

Steve gave the guy a sympathetic look. He remembered the panic that had gripped him when Mary was kidnapped and knew pretty well what he must be feeling right now. Raising his voice to his superiors was the least they could expect from him. "What can you tell me about her boss?" He tried again, hoping to divert his attention. "You said you talked to him this morning."

"Andrew Gaynes. He's a scumbag."

"Alright," Danny chuckled. "What makes you say that?"

Patterson gave him a disbelieving look. "I've been a cop for 13 years. That reason enough?"

Steve couldn't help the smirk on his own face.

"Do you have reasons _other_ than your instinct?" Danny pressed.

"No, I don't. But I don't like the guy. Never have, never will. And I told Sara to get out of there as fast as she could." He was about to add something when a knock on the door interrupted him and another officer poked his head in.

"Sergeant, I finished the composite for the Kalama case. Thought you might wanted to pass it around at roll call."

Duke nailed him with a stern look. "This is not a good time, Wilson." His brusque tone was as good as a dismissal, and it made both Steve and Danny wince in support of the young cop.

"Everything okay in here?" he asked as his eyes scanned the people in the room.

"What did I just say?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir," Wilson quickly apologized, closing the door in one swift move and disappearing behind it.

Steve suppressed a smile. "Alright, Duke, I think that's enough." He rose to his feet and motioned for Danny to do the same. "I'll keep you guys posted."

"That it?" Patterson stared at them in confusion.

"Officer..." Lukela warned.

"What, Sarge? Am I supposed to sit tight and watch the big guys here run the show? It's my sister we're talking about. I wanna help!"

"And you will," Steve replied coolly, not fazed by the sudden outburst. "Right now we're just putting information together. We'll be back as soon as we get a clearer picture. In the meantime, I'm sure your Sergeant will keep you out of unnecessary trouble."

His reassurances did nothing to calm the man down. "Fine. You examine your evidence, I'll do some search of my own," he said harshly, pulling his car keys out of his jacket pocket.

"That might not be—"

"Look, I'm not gonna sit and wait while my sister's in the hands of some lunatic. I won't!" He shook his head and stormed out of the office before any of the three bewildered men he left behind had a chance to stop him.

* * *

Captain Lou Grover was tired. The kind of weariness that comes when you've seen too much and have run out of emotional energy to deal with the burdens you're forced to carry.

Sitting at his desk sipping black coffee, he was feeling the weight of yet another sleepless night on his shoulders. He had tried, more like obeyed, when his wife had asked him to come home, only to lay awake on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling, unable to turn his mind off long enough to surrender to sleep.

The new case had come as a blessing, giving him something else to focus on. He had eagerly taken Duke's call, sent squads and techs to the woman's apartment, discussed its results with the lab and ME and ran a background check on the missing girl's brother. All that work, he realized with dismay as he checked his wristwatch, had only killed a handful of hours and now here he was, wishing his teammates would walk through the door so he could finally stop staring at the geometric patterns on his computer screen.

Placing the now empty mug back on the desk, he finally got up from his chair and walked out of the office. He could count six cups on three different desks, a not-so-subtle reminder of the hours they'd all spent running leads and collecting evidence. Caffeine, the 21st century's fuel.

Ten minutes later he was back and absently picking at a sandwich he didn't really want to eat while nursing his aching hand.

Lou believed in God and in the power of free will but like everyone else in the justice system, he had zero tolerance for whoever hurt women and kids. His distaste had become painfully clear to the rest of the team that morning when he'd punched the kid's father in the face during the interrogation. The man had immediately cried for police brutality and McGarrett had had to order him out of the room. Hours later, he could still see 5-year-old Kyle Jennings lying on the steel autopsy table every time he closed his eyes.

Another dead kid, another dent in his armor.

What was left of his appetite ruined, he threw the sandwich away and reached for one of the folders stacked in front of him. As he re-read the documents for the third time that day and stared at the gory pictures his throbbing hand curled once again into an angry fist.

Some people are just not meant to be parents. And some others deserve nothing but pain.

The sound of footsteps approaching tore him away from those dark thoughts and he turned around to see Junior Reigns smiling at him through the open glass door. The kid had tirelessly worked on the Jennings case for close to two days too, cursed with the misfortune of being the one to find the kid's body. His sad, knowing smile spoke of understanding and a shared anger at the world's injustices.

"You alright, Sir?"

"Yeah."

"You look tired."

"I am," Lou admitted.

"How's the hand?" Junior wasn't sure he would've only landed one punch if he'd found himself in the other man's place.

"Sore."

"You should get it checked out."

The ex-SWAT Captain shrugged. "No big deal. Doesn't even hurt anymore."

As if wanting to prove his point, he placed the report he was reading back on the desk and tried to stretch his hand, wincing at the pain that the movement caused and exhaling loudly. Maybe having it checked wasn't a bad idea after all.

"Where's everyone?" Junior asked.

"Williams's on his way over with McGarrett. They had to take a little detour, said he'd explain as soon as he got here."

The younger man nodded. "So, what's your excuse?"

Grover's brow furrowed. "For what?"

"Not getting enough sleep."

He faltered, surprised that the kid had even noticed. "This," he eventually said, pointing to the folder. "The job. Sometimes it's just too much, you know?"

Junior nodded again. He knew all too well. "How much do you know about this new case?" he asked, changing the subject before it became too personal for both.

"Enough to hope this disappearance won't graduate to murder."

"Anything I can help you with?"

"No, thanks. Not yet." His gaze traveled outside the room where he spotted two familiar figures headed in their direction. "Speak of the devil…"

Junior followed his line of sight just in time to see McGarrett and Williams enter the office.

One look at their leader's grim expression and they both knew this was going to be another tough one.

"Any leads?" Lou asked as they joined the two partners around the smart table. He searched Danny's gaze for clues about Steve's troubled expression and was rewarded with a slight, ' _don't-even-go-there'_ shake of the head.

"No," the Jersey detective started, giving his friend another moment to compose himself. "But there's something about this case that you should know about. Steve?"

Steve lowered his gaze and folded his arms across his chest. "Alright. Lou, remember I called you right after I checked out Nielsen's alibi?" he said, referring to the father's business associate they had hoped would shed some light onto the kid's whereabouts.

"Last night? Yeah."

He nodded and kept going. "I was driving back to the office when suddenly this girl came out of nowhere. She was walking fast, almost running and obviously not paying attention. I almost hit her." He paused for a moment, reliving the scene once again in his mind. "It was her. The missing woman. I blared the horn and she jumped like a deer in the headlights. We looked at each other for a moment and then she was gone." _But I'll never forget those eyes_ , he wanted to add, _or the anguished expression I saw on her face._

"Did you notice anything else?" Grover inquired, absorbing the news. He couldn't blame McGarrett for being upset. It would've bothered him too.

"I didn't," Steve admitted. "My mind was focused on the case so I sped up as soon as she disappeared."

"So you have no idea if she got into a car with someone or left by herself?"

"No. But she was upset, that much I'm sure of."

 _If only I'd paid attention…_

He saw Junior hit a few keys on the virtual keyboard. "Where was this?"

Steve paused, thinking it over. "King Street."

The young man continued to type until a map of downtown Honolulu appeared on the big screen, a red dot blinking at the center of it. "Firm she works at is right around the corner. It confirms she was still at work before she disappeared. Do you remember what time it was?"

"Four, four-thirty, I think."

"Fits the time line," Danny stated. "You were probably the last one to see her."

The simple truth behind his partner's statement caught Steve off guard. He stared back at his colleagues, searching for words that refused to come out. Slowly their voices started to blur, drowned as if he was listening from under water, and then he tuned them completely out, focusing once again on his memories of their brief encounter.

When he zoned back in an indefinite time later, Danny was staring at him like he was expecting an answer and Lou had a concerned look in his eyes.

"I, uh... what'd you say?" he sheepishly asked, wondering just how much of the conversation he'd missed.

Danny frowned. "I asked if you wanna head over to the firm, talk to Sara's coworkers."

"Sure. Yeah, let's do that," he agreed. "Lou, talk to the mother. See how much she knows about her daughter's life. We'll meet back here in a couple of hours."

Grover watched his friends leave then leaned both hands on the smart table and hung his head, closing his eyes.

It was going to be a _long_ day.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three**

A/N: As always, I'm super thankful for your comments and overall support. A special shoutout to the guests who I can't thank personally but whose reviews I appreciate very much.

The story's picking up pace, and you'll be able to add a few more pieces to the puzzle.

* * *

"What are you saying, Danny?" Steve asked as they rode the elevator to the eight floor of the elegant, glass-paneled building downtown.

After another quiet drive, he'd made it clear that they needed answers and that he would do whatever he deemed appropriate to get them. Which was exactly what Danny was afraid of.

"I'm saying let me do the talking," he replied nonchalantly. "We don't want these people withholding information and considering your... cheerful disposition it might be best if, you know, we went for a softer approach."

A metallic ding signaled they'd reached their floor and the elevator doors pulled open before Steve had a chance to voice his disagreement. He pursed his lips and stepped aside, gesturing for his partner to go in first.

The receptionist at Jeffries & Gaynes couldn't be more than 20, 21 years old. Tall, thin, sun-bleached blonde hair and a tan that would put any surfer in the area to shame, she took one look at them and raised a questioning eyebrow. It reminded Danny of his own daughter's attitude, which he was still learning how to deal with.

He pointed to the badge hooked to his belt. "Detective Williams and Commander McGarrett, Five-0. We're here to see Susan Harris."

If she was impressed, she didn't show it. "She's in with a client."

Steve leaned on the counter, smiling at the young woman as he looked at the name tag pinned on her blouse. "Hello, Lisa," he said cordially, entrusting his natural charm to get in her good graces. He figured in this case, it would work better than a threat. "We're very sorry to bother you but this is very important, so if you could tell her we're here we would really appreciate it."

"Of course," she nodded as she beamed in delight at the attention and smiled back, rising to her feet. "I'll go get her right now."

"Thank you." He watched her disappear around a corner and turned to face his partner with a _'how's-that-for-softer-approach'_ expression on his face.

Danny rolled his eyes.

Less than a minute later she was back, followed by another young woman.

Susan Harris was petite, with short-cropped red hair and a dash of freckles across her nose. "How can I help you, detectives?" She said, offering Steve a bright smile.

The Jersey detective shook his head, stifling another eye roll. What was with his partner and women constantly falling at his feet?

"We need to ask you a few questions about your coworker, Sara Patterson."

"What about her?"

Steve's smile faded. Danny saw the muscles flex in his jaw as he clenched his teeth and thought that was his cue to take the lead. "Miss Harris, I'm sure you already know that Sara has been reported missing. When was the last time you saw her?"

The woman shrugged. "Yesterday afternoon."

The former SEAL squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead. His patience was wearing thin. Fast.

"Care to elaborate on that?" Danny pressed.

"Around four, I guess. I saw her leaving so I stopped her, told her Andrew wouldn't appreciate that."

"Andrew?"

"Uh- Mr. Gaynes," she quickly backtracked, heat rushing to her face. "I told her Mr. Gaynes wouldn't appreciate that."

Steve inched closer. "Miss Harris, how long have you been sleeping with your boss?" he asked, his voice loud enough so the receptionist and a few other employees could hear him.

"What?" Her shocked expression matched the one on his partner's face and had it been another time, he would've laughed at how naive Danny could be sometimes.

"I don't- I mean... Maybe we should take this to my office," she said, nervously wringing her hands.

"Is Andrew -oops, I mean Mr. Gaynes in today?"

Danny shot him a ' _wasn't I supposed to do the talking?'_ look, sweeping a hand across his throat to get him to stop talking. The man _never_ listened.

"He is."

"Good. We're gonna need to talk to him too."

Susan nodded. "Please follow me."

Her office was spacious, with two walls of floor-to-ceiling glass windows and expensive furniture compared to the others they'd seen. Being the boss' mistress sure had its advantages.

"So, Ms. Harris, let's try this again," Steve said as they all took a seat on both sides of her equally impressive desk. "What can you tell us about the last time you saw Ms. Patterson?"

"She was in a hurry. I had to physically stop her so I could talk to her. And she looked like she'd been crying. I asked what was going on and she told me she had somewhere to be. That's it. That's all I know."

"Do you know if she was having problems with anyone here at the office?"

"No, but she got a call right before she left. I- I know this because I can see her office from here." She pointed to the empty workspace directly in front of hers.

"You have any idea who might've called her?" Steve asked, arms folded across his chest.

"No. Can you please leave now? I have a client waiting."

"I thought the two of you were friends," Danny inquired. The woman was starting to grate on his nerves as well.

Susan sighed, throwing up her hands in frustration. "Look, it's complicated…"

"What'd you say, partner, should we take Ms. Harris here back to the office with us?"

"What? No! I don't know anything, I swear to God!"

Danny glanced at his friend, frowning when he realized he didn't appear to be listening anymore. "Steve?"

The Five-0 leader's attention had been drawn to the noise coming from the outside corridor. Soldier instincts already on alert, he held out one finger to silence them both and slowly got up from his chair.

Someone was yelling. Then a woman's scream, and a loud thump as something – or somebody crashed to the floor. Steve was out of the room and inching along the hallway in a second, gun already drawn, looking for the source of the commotion.

Danny cursed under his breath and told Susan to hide under her desk before going after him. Peering outside, he noticed the hallway was empty and his partner no longer in sight.

 _Shit_.

"Let me go, you crazy son of a bitch!"

He quickened his pace, reminding himself to breathe as he passed a few other offices and checked for damage or injured. There were none.

"Get off of me, I got nothing to do with this!"

"You're lying!"

He knew that voice.

When he rounded the corner, he finally saw Steve crouched near Andrew Gaynes's office door. Relief washed over him for a moment as he realized that his partner wasn't responsible for whatever was going on inside. Not yet at least. Releasing a breath, he focused on what was happening inside. Officer Patterson had grabbed the lawyer by the collar of his neatly pressed shirt and was pointing a gun to his head. Gaynes, a square-shouldered man of about thirty with a crisp haircut, a stubble and flashing green eyes, was pinned against the wall and sweating profusely.

"Where is she, huh? Where's my sister?"

"Patterson! Put the gun down!" Steve hollered as he revealed his position, his weapon trained and ready to shoot.

The lawyer heard his voice and sighed in relief. "Help me! Please!"

The officer didn't budge. "He's involved in this," he said, tightening the grip on the man's shirt. "I know he is!"

"We don't know that yet but if he is, I give you my word that he's gonna pay for it."

"I have no idea what he's talking about, he's crazy!" Gaynes was more pissed than afraid now, both at the psycho cop holding him hostage in front of his employees and at whoever was talking to him for not doing enough to help.

"Shut up!" Steve lowered his weapon, holstering it at his side.

Danny's eyes widened. "Steve? What the hell are you doing?"

His partner was apparently just as crazy. He watched him walk into the room, arms held out in a non-threatening manner as he tried to get the officer's attention.

"Come on, man, put the gun down. You don't want to risk your career over this."

Patterson's head turned in the direction of the voice, his gaze leveling on Steve. "My career doesn't matter if I have no family to come home to, Commander."

The heartfelt words hit home, halting Steve in his tracks. He had come close to losing it after Freddie and his father's death, and he was positive he would not be alive today if he hadn't accepted the Governor's office and gone back to the Navy.

"Josh... hear me out, man," he pleaded, the pain that he saw reflected in the younger man's eyes tugging at his heart. "Don't do this. We'll figure it out, I promise. Just put the gun down."

The officer stared at him for a moment, letting the words register in his brain, then gave Gaynes one last tug and took a step back, lowering his weapon.

Danny, who had slowly inched inside the office to stand next to his partner, immediately grabbed it and placed it in the waistband of his pants before reaching for his cuffs to restrain him.

"Get him out of here, I wanna press charges!" Gaynes shouted. "He assaulted me, you all saw it!"

Steve grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, flattening him against the desk. "You better not be involved in this, you hear me?" he whispered to the man's ear. "And unless you want me to lock you in a room with him I suggest you shut the hell up!"

The lawyer gasped, the muscles in his throat twitching for air. Just as quickly as he'd grabbed him Steve released his hold, took a calming breath and backed off. "He's right, Danny," he said, pointing to Patterson. "Gaynes is lying."

And with that, he was out the door.

* * *

Music.

Playing in the background.

Definitely _not_ the kind of music she would normally listen to.

 _Japanese music?_

Sara stirred, trying to clear the fog from her head until she realized that moving was a lot more painful than it should.

Cold.

Did she leave the window open?

She tried to lift one arm, only to find out that she couldn't.

 _What the hell?_

Then everything came back.

The phone call at the office bearing bad news. Almost getting hit by a truck. The caller ID on the man's phone. Blood on her hands.

She opened her eyes and blinked a few times to focus on her surroundings. Dirt. Dim light. Scattered boxes. A warehouse?

Her head was throbbing and so was her left hand, cuffed behind her back to a metal pipe. She could feel something wet and sticky running down her fingers and figured it had to be blood. Struggling to sit up, she winced as the pressure of her own body against her arms and hands made the hard rim of the cuffs cut into the skin of her wrists.

Voices shouted above the music. Not clear enough to understand the words but close enough to confirm there were people nearby.

The last thing she remembered was coming out of her apartment and getting into the elevator. Then a hand clamped over her mouth. She'd tried to scream but the palm had shoved the sound back down her throat. She had no recollection of how she'd ended up here – wherever 'here' was. They must've given her something.

The near-darkness made her uneasy. She kept hearing movement in the shadows, soft scurrying sounds that made the hair on the back of her neck rise. Was she imagining them?

Sitting perfectly still, listening to her own breathing, Sara wondered if they were ever going to find her alive.

Josh would be looking for her. He wouldn't stop until he found her.

Assuming he was still alive.

 _'Ms. Patterson?'_

 _'Yes.'_

 _I'm calling from HPD. I'm sorry to report that there's been an accident involving your brother.'_

 _'What?'_

 _'He's currently being transported to Queen's. It doesn't look good.'_

 _'Oh, God... I-uh, ...I'll be right there.'_

 _'One of our officers has already been dispatched to your location. He's going to take you to the hospital.'_

 _'Okay...thanks.'_

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.

She should've known better.

A shiver ran down her spine and she tucked her legs close against her chest. Not too far, an engine revved up then slowly faded off into the distance, taking the music away with it and replacing it with silence.

Angry tears welled up in her eyes.

There had to be a way out of this.

She just needed to find it.

* * *

"Talk to me, Tani," Steve said, urging the female detective to share the latest update on the case. They were once again gathered around the smart table, exhaustion clearly written across all of their faces.

"Alright, so the blood found in the apartment came back as Sara's," she started, noticing the way her boss shook his head at the news. "We know that she came back around five last night. A man was reportedly seen with her by a neighbor. She gave HPD a description and we're running it through the system. Same with the fingerprints. Phone records show that she received a call at the office at 4:04 from a burner phone. Lasted less than a minute. She was seen leaving the firm right after that."

Lou turned to Danny. "Any luck there?"

The Jersey native shook his head. "Coworker claims she has no idea who she was talking to. Said she tried to stop her, find out what was going on but couldn't get answers."

"Anything suspicious about her?"

He shrugged. "She's romantically involved with the boss but I don't think that qualifies as a motive. We know Sara wasn't seeing anyone so I doubt she would care about that."

"How about we don't speak about her in the past tense?" Steve snapped. "She might still be alive."

"Okay," Danny conceded. He cast a sideways glance at Lou, and the look on the other man's face told him he was just as worried about Steve as he was. "Sorry, man."

"I spoke to Duke," Grover chimed in. "Mr. Gaynes is not going to press charges, but Officer Patterson is going to be held in lockup for a few hours to cool his head off after the little stunt he pulled at the law firm."

Steve twisted his face in disbelief. "That's ridiculous. He's the victim here, doesn't deserve to get thrown in jail!"

"It's a precautionary measure, babe," Danny replied. "To prevent him from ruining his career. And it's not jail, it's just one of the interrogation rooms down at the station."

"Whatever."

For a long moment, no one spoke. The air hung tight around the room as the seconds ticked by, all members of the task force lost in their own thoughts or too worn out to argue.

"I'm running a background check on Gaynes," Junior eventually said, breaking the silence. McGarrett had asked him to, and his loyalty to the man was unwavering. "His name popped up in a couple of drug-related trials so I'm digging for more."

"Do we like him as a suspect?" Lou asked, looking at Steve.

"Wouldn't cross him off the list yet. I think he's hiding something. We need to dig deeper to figure out what."

Danny saw the ex-SWAT Captain glance at his watch as he nodded, exhaustion clearly written on his and everybody else's features. "I say we all go home for a few hours, get some rest. We'll start fresh tomorrow."

Steve almost did a double-take, wondering if he'd heard him right. "Are you serious?"

"Very much so," Danny replied, unfazed by the angry look in his friend's eyes. He knew Steve wasn't mad at him, just frustrated by the whole situation.

"Since when do you decide when to call it quits?"

"Since you've let this case become personal. You're not thinking straight, Steve. And we're all tired."

"Well, I think we should keep searching." How could he even suggest they go home when she was still out there?

"No. What we should do," Danny replied, sweeping his hand to indicate every team member, "is get some rest. Come on, man, we're all exhausted. Just a few hours, alright? Catch some sleep, maybe take a shower. We'll be back here in no time."

Steve reluctantly followed his partner's gaze around the table, taking in the weariness featured on each face. His team had been running on fumes for days, it wasn't fair to deny them the rest they so obviously needed.

"Alright," he finally gave in. "We'll meet back here at 8."

After a quick round of goodbyes, they all scattered to their respective offices and were out of the building in minutes. Steve followed Danny to the parking lot, nodding unconvincingly when the latter made him promise to go straight home and stay there until morning.

As if he could stop the questions running through his mind, or the thoughts swirling in his head. He could swim to the mainland and back and it wouldn't be enough to silence them tonight.

* * *

"Baby? Is that you?"

Renée's voice guided Lou up the stairs and into the master bedroom. And there she was, propped against the pillows of his king-size bed. His beautiful, smart and sexy wife.

"Come here," she said, opening her arms to welcome him. "I feel like I haven't seen you at all these last few days."

"I know, and I'm sorry." He sat down on the bed and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her softly. "It's been pretty rough, one bad case after another."

She held him close, figuring it was all he needed after such long days.

"Is everyone doing alright?" Her second question, after making sure he was okay, was always about the team. What Grover could count on, the support of a loving family, some had lost or never experienced it, so she'd welcomed them all to her own.

"I can only hope so," he whispered. "I'm going to take a quick shower and then come to bed, alright?"

"I'll be here waiting," she smiled.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four**

* * *

Sara felt drowsy.

The cold, the lack of food or water and the albeit minimal blood loss had taken their toll on her and she'd been drifting in and out of consciousness. She couldn't tell how much time had passed but noticed with disappointment it was still dark outside so it shouldn't have been long.

Her head was still throbbing with a vengeance, and as she swallowed hard to fight the nausea creeping from her abdomen, she was positive she could add a concussion to her list of injuries.

She remembered the man's forearm across her throat, being slammed against the wall in the hallway, her skull hitting her favorite painting, and falling amidst the shattered glass. She loved that piece of artwork. It reminded her of a semester in Europe on her second year of college.

Sara smiled at the memory, thinking how weird it was that her mind had come up with the strangest thought in an even stranger setting. College seemed like a lifetime ago now.

There were still voices around her, on the other side of the door she had spotted at the far corner of the room. They'd been the one constant since she'd first awakened, which meant there was probably something valuable in the building that they were guarding 24/7.

Rectangles of artificial light from a row of windows to her right illuminated the space around her in yellowish beams. If only she could reach one of them and find out where she was... Even if she couldn't tell the exact location, just knowing she was still in Oahu would be something.

She strained her ears for sounds, cars or ships, trying to identify if she was in an industrial or residential area until something caught her attention. A car – no, several cars coming.

 _Fuck._

That wasn't good.

She heard brakes screech, doors slam, more voices and as a sense of dread rose within her, footsteps approaching. Judging by the scuffing sounds against the pavement, it had to be at least three people coming.

Sara took a deep breath, trying to brace herself for whatever was about to happen and closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep.

* * *

Steve swung his legs to the side of the bed and rested both elbows against his knees, rubbing his eyes.

A glance at his wristwatch on the bedside table told him he should be asleep, and yet his earlier assumption had proved to be correct and he'd gotten no relief from the dark thoughts running through his tired brain. After taking an unusually long shower the minute he had gotten home, he'd changed into shorts and a t-shirt and sat in the recliner, beer in hand, until the amber liquid inside the untouched bottle had become warm.

After checking on Eddie to make sure he had enough food and water he'd then moved upstairs, but not even the comfortable mattress and the nice breeze coming in from the open bedroom window had been enough to divert his attention from the case.

The young woman's terrified face kept haunting him every time he closed his eyes. Even when he finally succumbed to his body's needs and fell into a restless sleep she was there waiting for him, asking for help and jolting him awake not even a half hour later.

Helping people was what he was good at. People like Sara, who was out there and probably scared out of her mind, if she was alive at all.

He couldn't sit there and do nothing.

There had to be a lead. Something to point him in the right direction.

He just needed to find it.

* * *

"How much did you give her?"

"The usual. She should be awake by now."

"Hope you didn't screw this up."

"Why do you care? Thought she was gonna die anyway."

"We need to know where the evidence is before she does. And I don't have to remind you that her brother's a cop."

"What's your rich friend sayin' about this?"

"Doesn't matter what he says, he's involved in this as much as we are, he knows we have no choice. Speaking about cops, Five-0 came to the Station today."

"That's not good. Don't want no one else sniffing around my business. Now follow me, haole. We got things to discuss before she wakes up."

Sara waited, heart hammering loudly inside her chest.

Listened.

When all the noise in her vicinity stopped and she was satisfied that the men had left she finally opened her eyes and looked around.

She was alone again, though she knew it wouldn't be for long.

Cold sweat filmed her body, trickling down between her breasts and back. She needed to do something or her life was going to end. Soon.

Working her legs so she could stand on her knees, she grabbed the pipe they had cuffed her to and pulled it as hard as she could, covering up the pain that the movement caused by pressing her lips into a thin line.

The metal tube didn't budge.

 _Think, Sara, think._

Her brother had taught her a few tricks over the years, and she tried to recall as many of those memories as she could until it finally hit her: the cuffs. She knew how to pick locks. What had started out as a joke and a competition between her and Josh could now actually save her life.

Reaching into her jeans pocket was a painful process, but she eventually managed to grab the bobby pin she always kept there in case of some last-minute hair fixing. Shaky hands slowly worked the pin into the handcuffs as she kept listening for sounds or movements outside the door and tried to come up with a plan. With any luck she would be able to reach one of the windows and crawl outside.

It took her longer than she had anticipated to work on the lock but she eventually felt it give and smiled as the cuff snapped open, freeing her left wrist. Not bothering to waste any more time to unshackle the other she brought her hands around, rubbing them to get the circulation going again. They were ghostly white, with deep red welts running around each wrist. The deep cut that had sliced her left palm was now caked with dried blood, and smaller ones were visible on both hands and forearms.

Her head swam as she got to her feet. Shaky legs threatened to give out and she held on to one of the barrels sitting next to her for support. Using her good hand, she tore a piece of her shirt to use as a makeshift bandage over her injured one then felt the lump on the back of her head, discovering more blood where the skin had been broken. That explained the nausea and confirmed the concussion.

 _No time to dwell on that_ , Sara though to herself.

She needed to get out of there.

* * *

 _The man waved at her from across the street._

 _He was driving an HPD-issued sedan, its red-and-blue lights flashing on the roof as he waited._

 _Sara quickened her pace and moved towards him, heart still beating frantically in her chest after her near-death encounter with a truck just moments before. She really hadn't been paying attention, and the distraction could've cost her more than she needed right now._

 _Even the truck driver had seemed more concerned than angry. She could've sworn there was more to his worried glance and she probably should've stopped to say something but all she cared about was getting to the hospital to see her brother as soon as possible._

 _Approaching the sedan, she tapped on the window and waited for the officer to unlock the passenger door, then quickly slid inside. Mid-thirties, deep-set coffee-brown eyes and a day's growth of beard, he turned in his seat to face her and gave her a reassuring smile._

" _Sara?"_

 _She nodded._

" _I work with your brother. I'm sorry we have to meet like this."_

 _Tears welled up in her eyes at the thought of Josh being hurt or worse, dead. "I've never seen you before," was all she managed to get out. In hindsight, that should've been the first sign that something wasn't right._

 _Surprised registered on the man's face. "Oh, I just, uh… got transferred a few weeks ago."_

 _Sara nodded again. "Do you know what happened?"_

" _I wasn't with him in the field, no. They just told me to come get you so you could see him at the hospital." He shifted the car into drive and was about to pull away from the curb when his phone started to ring. Sara instinctively glanced at the device, held upright by a plastic support attached to the vents in the dash. The name displayed on the screen made her blood run cold._

 _Gaynes._

 _She knew there was a chance that her boss might be on to her but she'd hoped to have more time to expose him. It had taken a simple search through his file cabinet looking for a deposition for a case to stumble on a list of dates and names instead and realize that Andrew Gaynes was dealing drugs and making a lot of money on the side with the blessing of clients he'd represented and members of the police force. From there, she had slowly started to piece evidence together -phone calls, pictures, files, in order to prove it. A painstaking work that would've made any detective proud but that had turned out too big to handle on her own._

 _And now she'd been exposed._

 _Sara glanced nervously towards the street then back at the officer, her gaze slowly traveling downward to the gun he was now pointing at her. "You made the call, didn't you?"_

 _The corners of his lips curved upward. "I did. And now you're gonna give me everything you have on us or you'll never see your brother again."_

 _She stared at him as the muscles in her abdomen tightened and a tear slid down her cheek._

" _Home," she said. "What you're looking for is in my apartment."_

* * *

"Commander?"

"Junior?" The surprise in Steve's tone was clear as he balanced the cell phone between his shoulder and chin and poured himself a much-needed cup of coffee. He hadn't even noticed that the kid wasn't around, which said a lot about his tiredness and general mental state. "Where are you?"

"I got the information on that lawyer you wanted me to check, Sir."

"You're still at work?"

A sense of pride washed over Steve at the realization that Junior had never left the office. He'd seen potential in him the minute he'd showed up on his doorstep and once again, his instincts had been right. "Are you ignoring your superior's orders, Special Operator Reigns?"

"Yes, Sir," the young man replied, his voice firm. "You can say I am. Thought I'd finish what I started before calling it quits."

Steve nodded in appraisal and moved to the living room, setting the mug on the coffee table. "What'd you find?"

"Andrew Gaynes got a reputation for hanging out with the wrong crowd. Some of his clients are known drug dealers tied to the Yakuza, specifically the group known as 'The Order of the White Tiger'. I see their leader has been on your radar since before I joined the task force. Sergeant Lukela thinks they got at least one cop on their payrolls but he's never been able to prove it. He sent me a list of initials that I'm cross-referencing with the police database."

"That's why they're always ahead of us," Steve reasoned. They had been after these guys for months, coordinating with HPD and occasionally the DEA and barely scratching the surface of their drug trafficking ring.

"And if they get caught, they trust lawyers like Gaynes to get them out of trouble. From the intel I gathered, he's been climbing the ranks pretty fast and feeding his habit as well."

Steve's grip on the cell phone tightened. "Not if I can help it."

"I'm thinking maybe Sara saw something she shouldn't have and they're trying to silence her." Junior paused for a moment after voicing his thought, waiting for a reply that didn't come. On the other end of the line, the Five-0 Commander's lips were pursed in anger as he found himself unable to reply. "I'll keep digging. Maybe we'll get lucky."

"Thanks, man. I appreciate it."

"Just doing my job, Sir."

Steve was about to end the call when a thought suddenly came to him. "Has there been any recent activity in any of their known locations?"

"No, but satellites have detected movements around a warehouse in Sand Island that HPD busted three weeks ago. This building has been seized during the raid and shouldn't be active."

"Send me the address, I'll check it out." Steve replied, already off the couch and heading upstairs to change.

"You need backup, Sir?"

"No, thanks. I'm just gonna drive by, do a quick recon."

Junior wanted to insist but eventually chose not to press his superior. "Okay. Let me know if you do. I can be there in ten." He was about to put the phone down when a message popped up on the computer screen in front of him, displaying the result of his search. "Uh- Commander?"

"Yeah."

"One of the initials from Sergeant Lukela's list matches an officer from HPD. I'm sending you the picture right now."

Steve put the call on speaker and stared at the man on the screen.

 _Son of a bitch._

The name rang a distant bell but he sure had seen that face before.

* * *

Danny couldn't sleep.

Which was kind of ironic considering he'd suggested they go home specifically for this purpose and his children were already fast asleep in the bed next to him.

If this was any other night he would've welcomed a quiet house, grateful for the chance to just slid under the covers and close his eyes, enjoying the silence. Tonight he found it unnerving, ominous even. His mind kept going back to the case, and as much as he'd tried to convince Steve that going home was a good idea, he was starting to think they should have kept going.

His fingers slowly traced the scar on his chest as his instincts screamed at him to get out of bed and call his partner. He wanted to believe Steve wouldn't do anything stupid tonight but then again, the man was an ex-Navy SEAL who had been trained to function without the basic needs humans relied on like sleeping and eating. That, and the fact that he'd taken this case a little too personally were enough to set warning bells off in his brain. Alarms he prayed would just this once, wait until the morning.

It was 3:52am when he finally caved in. Trying to be as quiet as he could so that he wouldn't wake Charlie and Grace he tossed the covers aside, slid off the bed and padded across the room to the door, closing it behind him.

The refrigerator humming was the only sound in the kitchen, bathed in slivers of moonlight filtering from the windows. It was enough to allow him to navigate between chairs and furniture and over to the coffee machine. Rubbing his tired eyes, Danny pressed the button and started the device, figuring he might as well put some caffeine in his system. Espresso sounded especially good. It'd give him that extra boost he needed to survive another full day in the field. He'd have a cup and then check on Steve, who he was now sure was awake and planning a ninja-style assault op to take advantage of the darkness outside.

Slowly, the aroma started to seep around the room, soothing and invigorating him at the same time. He retrieved his cell phone as he waited for the machine to brew the coffee and was about to fetch himself a cup when he felt it vibrate in his hand.

"Hello?" he said without even looking at the caller ID, figuring it was Steve. Who else would call him at this hour?

"Detective Williams? I'm sorry to wake you, Sir."

"Junior?" Danny immediately tensed as if waiting for a blow. "What's wrong?"

"I, uh… got something you might wanna know. Fingerprints in Sara's apartment are a match to an HPD cop. Randall P. Wilson. Goes by Randy. I checked his records and found something interesting: he went to school with Andrew Gaynes. Gaynes also represented him in court a few years ago when he was accused of bribery. He was acquitted."

"Of course he was," Danny sighed as he sank in one of the chairs by the kitchen table, briefly wondering why the younger man was checking leads at four in the morning. "Do you have an address for this outstanding member of the service?"

"Sending it to your phone right now. We also found out Gaynes has a history with members of the Yakuza, which means they're probably both involved in drugs. I've already called Commander McGarrett, and he said he was going to check one of the warehouses HPD busted a couple of weeks ago."

 _Shit._

"He's what?" Danny shot to his feet. "Thanks, Junior, I'll handle this. Call Grover and wait for instructions." He clicked on the 'end' button as soon as he finished his sentence and rushed back to the bedroom, leaving his espresso untouched on the counter.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five**

* * *

A/N: A heartfelt thank you to everyone who's reading and commenting on this story. I love reading your reviews and PMs.

Please allow some creative license for this chapter. I know things are not as easy in real life as we write them in our stories but that's the beauty of it, right? Bending reality to suit our writing needs. Oh, and btw I have researched and yes, public telephones are still around in Hawaii.

Ready for some action? This is a long one...

* * *

The first thing that struck her was the cold.

Finding herself free from her captors and out on the streets, Sara realized that the air was drawing her heat off faster than her body could replace it, blowing right through her t-shirt and jeans.

Shivering, she wrapped her arms tighter around herself, tucking her chin downward, and pushed the thought to the back of her mind, focusing on putting one step in front of the other. Her head spun as she moved, making her dizzy. White spots danced in front of her tired eyes as they scanned her surroundings, barely aided by the few, scattered streetlights that still worked.

Nothing was familiar in this area.

She turned around every now and then to make sure she wasn't being followed, each time expecting to see men with guns or cars racing towards her.

Getting out of the warehouse had been far too easy, almost as if they'd let her leave on purpose only to catch her again and kill her for good. She'd used one of the barrels to reach the windows, mustering all of her strength to move it according to her needs and climb on top of it. The first two windows hadn't budged but the third finally had, allowing her to sneak out unnoticed. The side of the building was gratefully unguarded, and she'd started running as fast as she could the minute her feet had touched the ground.

Not nearly satisfied at the distance she'd put between herself and her captors she kept moving, her only goal to find shelter and call for help.

It wasn't going to take them long to realize she was missing, if they hadn't already.

She faltered once but caught herself midway using a nearby wall for support and pushed forward, searching for a street sign or something that could help her identify where she was.

A dog barked in the distance and she jumped, hair falling loose around her face. She quickened her pace, unwilling to surrender to the headache and the ringing building in her ears.

She had escaped. She was _free_.

And was that a pay phone?

Sara blinked a few times, trying to focus on the sight ahead. Directly in front of her was a gas station, or what used to be one as it was now filled with old cars and various auto parts, and the unmistakable shape of a public telephone. Silently thanking the city for not completely succumbing to modern technology she rushed to it praying that it still worked. Shaky fingers lifted the receiver up, and she was rewarded by the dial tone indicating the device was ready for use.

 _It worked._

"911, what's your emergency?"

Sara almost cried in relief as she heard the dispatcher's voice. "Yes! My name is Sara Patterson. My brother's a cop with HPD, his name is Josh Patterson. I-I was kidnapped two days ago, I need to let him know I'm okay."

"Are you safe now?" The woman's voice on the other end of the line turned from business-like to concerned in an instant.

"I guess so. For now," she said, looking over her shoulders. "Please let me talk to my brother, it's really important."

"I'm going to dispatch a unit to your location, okay? Don't move." The operator hit a few keys and the address appeared on her computer screen. "Do you need medical attention?"

Sara stared at her bleeding hand. "Y-Yes."

"Okay. I'll have an ambulance en route as well. Now, tell me what happened."

"Look, I don't have time for this!" she pleaded, her voice shaking.

"Sara? Stay calm. I'm trying to contact your brother." Dispatchers usually didn't comply with citizens' requests but when it came to relatives of members of the service it was not uncommon to bend the rules a little.

Time seemed to slow down as Sara waited, rubbing her tired eyes and wishing she could just curl up in a corner and sleep. But when the other woman's voice came back on the line, the words she spoke were not what she expected to hear.

"They tell me officer Patterson is not available right now."

 _Nononononono_

"What you mean not available? Where is he?" Sara was in full panic mode now. Was Josh injured? Had they taken him as well?

Fear gripped onto her, impairing her ability to think straight. The idea that something might've happened to him as a result of her actions was too overwhelming to even consider it.

"I don't know. Why don't you just wait for the police, I'm sure they'll be able to contact him."

"No! Listen, he might be in danger, I need to talk to someone!" She pushed through the haze in her brain, trying to come up with a different plan. Then she remembered something she'd heard her captors say about detectives coming to ask questions about her. "Five-0! Five-0 is looking for me. Can I please talk to them?"

The dispatcher considered the request for a moment, then agreed. "Would you like me to patch you through to Commander McGarrett?"

"Yes! Please..."

"Okay. Just hold on a second."

* * *

Steve put his driving skills to the test as he weaved the Silverado through the nearly deserted streets while chastising himself for agreeing to his partner's request when it was clear they should've stayed at the office.

The case had turned out to be more complicated than they'd originally assumed, involving drug dealers and corrupt cops. Officer Wilson was the inside man of the organization, alerting Gaynes and the Yakuza every time the police had leads or information on them. He remembered the young man well, how he'd showed up at Lukela's office as they were discussing the case asking if everything was alright. They'd even felt sorry for him, while all the son of a bitch was doing was assessing the situation and try to learn what they knew.

He considered waking Danny up but decided against it. It was the weekend after all, and the kids were with him. Steve knew how much he valued his time with his children and didn't want to be responsible for cutting those few precious moments short. He'd gladly sit through one of his rants than risk putting his life in danger. Danny had a lot more to lose than he did.

Pressing down on the gas pedal, Steve cut through an intersection just as the light changed to red. Ten minutes, maybe even less, and he'd be at the address Junior had sent him. And with a bit of luck, it would be the same place where they were holding Sara.

Focused on his plan and the tasks ahead, he barely heard the sound of his phone buzzing. When he finally did, he grabbed it from the passenger seat and held it against his ear as he sped. "Yeah."

"Are you Commander McGarrett?"

The headlights of a passing car slashed his window, briefly lighting up his somber face. "Who is this?"

"I need help…"

Steve eased off the gas pedal, slowing the truck down. His heart skipped a beat as a flicker of recognition flashed across his brain. "Sara?"

"Please hurry..."

"Where are you?"

"I –I'm not sure. It's dark and…I don't really know."

The fear in the young woman's voice was unmistakable. "You hurt?" He asked, trying to sound calmer than he was.

"My hand's bleeding."

Steve swallowed hard. "It's gonna be alright, Sara, you hear me? You're gonna be fine." His foot jammed on the accelerator again and the Silverado jumped forward.

"They're gonna kill me..."

Tires squealed as the truck swung a wide turn. "No, they're not. I'm already on my way. Tell me where you are, tell me what you see."

"Uhm… I see a brown –no, dark red building. There's a sign on the side, says 'company'… I'm sorry, I can't read the whole thing!"

Steve cleared his throat, trying to distance himself from his feelings. "It's okay, I'm almost there. Just don't move."

The words seemed to hang between them for a moment. He heard her suck in a short, shallow breath. Then a gasp. "They found me…" she whispered. "They're here! I have to go..."

"Sara? Sara!" Steve heard the click of the phone call ending and his stomach sank. He smacked the steering wheel with his open hand. _Not again._ He was _not_ losing her again!

He kept glancing at his phone as he drove, willing it to ring. It did, but his hopes got dashed when his partner's name appeared on the screen.

"What?"

"Good to hear you too, partner."

"I had her on the line, Danny," he said in frustration. There was no time for friendly banter tonight.

"Sara Patterson?"

"Have Junior call 911, I need to know where she was calling from."

"Alright, hold on."

Steve eased a hand from the steering wheel and perched it by the open window, leaning into it as he replayed the conversation in his head and prayed that he would get there in time.

"Call came from a pay phone off the Sand Island Parkway," Danny stated a few moments later, coming back on the line. "1040 Makepono Street."

"Alright. Meet me there," Steve said, cutting off the call without giving his friend time to reply.

He wasn't far.

Just a few blocks away.

The Silverado braked in front of the address less than a minute later. Steve shoved it into park and bolted out of the driver's door, weapon ready. His trained eyes scanned the area, narrowing on the pay phone sitting near the locked entrance of an old convenience store, its receiver yanked from the jack and dangling upside down.

He circled the site, trying every door and possible hiding places.

He had to find her before they did.

A car passed by, the only occupant busy singing along to a rap tune.

Holstering the SIG back to his waist, Steve walked back to his truck and retrieved the rifle he kept with his tac gear as backup. Sara had mentioned a dark red building, which could be easily spotted on the other side of the road, not too far from where he was standing. It was worth a shot.

Two more cars sped past the gas station, high beams lighting a path through the darkened neighborhood. He instinctively backed off, concealing himself and his combat weapon behind the pickup so he wouldn't draw unnecessary attention.

His military senses were on edge, aware that the situation might change any moment and that he needed to act fast. Jogging across the street, he reached what had once been a Garment Dyeing Company. The two-story factory was now an unwelcoming pile of red bricks, a gaunt shell of a building with boarded windows threatening enough to keep all but squatters and addicts at bay.

The inside was equally ruined, if not worse off. No doors separated the rooms on the ground floor, roof slate lay smashed on the pavement along with parts of old equipment, garbage, used syringes and other drug paraphernalia.

Steve inched carefully as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, relying on his other senses to take in what he could not see. The only light source for the ravaged building were the cracks in the roof and plywood over the windows. A first inspection revealed nothing, and he wondered if he was just wasting his time checking this place. What if she'd walked farther or in the opposite direction?

Then he saw movement in his peripheral vision. Turning around swiftly, he spotted a figure running towards the exit and ran after it, covering the distance in quick, efficient steps. "Sara! Sara Patterson!"

She was almost outside when he stopped her. "Hey, hey, it's okay," Steve said, grabbing her by the arm. His grip was strong but delicate at the same time. The young woman was wearing a rumpled long-sleeve top and blood-stained jeans. Chestnut-brown hair fell loosely around her face, hiding her features as she cradled an injured hand protectively to her chest. "I'm Commander McGarrett with Five-0. We spoke on the phone."

Sara immediately relaxed in his grasp. She had taken refuge under the stairs, the only place that allowed her to see and not be seen, and when she had spotted the man with the rifle she'd thought that was it, that they'd finally found her. Not wanting the broken-down building to be the last thing she saw, she had chosen to take her chances and run for the door as fast as her weakened condition would allow her.

Swallowing hard, she ran her good hand over her hair, smoothing it away so she could meet his eyes. Surprise registered across her face as she realized she'd seen him before. It was him. The driver that had almost hit her. "You..."

Her haunted hazel eyes cut deep into Steve's heart. He'd always had a soft spot for protecting women and children, shielding from harm as many of them as he could as if to make amend for the ones he hadn't been able to save. He tilted his head to the side, lips curling into a smile. "Sorry about that, I wasn't paying attention."

Sara lowered her gaze, embarrassed. "Wasn't your fault."

A sudden surge of nausea spread through her body and she swayed, reaching for Steve's arm to steady herself. He was quick to catch her. "Hey, you alright?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, waiting for the pain to subside. "I'm fine. I just, uh…refused to cooperate. They didn't take it too well. Got a bump to the head to prove it."

Shaking his head in anger, Steve put his arm around her, holding her close to support her weight as they started to walk out of the building. "How'd you get free?"

Sara raised her right wrist where one of the cuffs was still attached. "My brother taught me how to pick locks."

"Good girl," he said, suppressing another smile. This young woman had more guts than most men he knew. "Let's go. We need to get out of here."

The mention of her brother sent the young woman into a new bout of panic. "Where's Josh?" she asked, halting their walk. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Steve immediately reassured her. "He's at the station. Refused to cooperate too, so Sergeant Lukela's keeping him out of trouble."

She almost deflated against the Commander's body as she nodded, allowing herself to let go of all her fears about her brother so she could focus on getting out of there alive to see him. Holding onto his arm, she let him guide her outside the building and towards the silver truck parked on the other side of the road.

The sound of engines roaring stopped them before they crossed the street. Steve watched as two cars slowed down and recognized the same vehicles that had passed him not too long ago. His military senses went off again. This could be no coincidence.

"Let's go," he said, quickly turning the both of them around. It was a split-second decision, and one he hoped would pay off in the end. There was no way he could take out five guys out in the open and keep Sara safe at the same time. He had to make sure she was out of harm's way first.

"It's them, isn't it? They found us…" Sara whispered, quickening her pace.

"It's gonna be okay. You just keep walking."

Darkness greeted them again as they slipped inside the dark red building, into gloom so thick they had to pause to let their eyes adjust before heading straight for the first floor.

"Cops should be here any time, right?"

"Yeah, they will," he agreed, hoping to be convincing. It wasn't really a lie; he just didn't think they had enough time to wait for backup. The vehicles were already screeching to a halt outside the building.

The upper floor was in much better condition. Most rooms still had doors and a few windows, albeit with no glass, had no plywood covering them, an added bonus when you're in a dark building being chased by Yakuza hit men with no survival guarantee.

Steve chose the farthest room from the stairs, a large space with a row of three stainless steel dyeing machines lined up on one side, and led Sara to the small space between two of the heavy pieces of equipment, tall and wide enough to hopefully be able to conceal the young woman from sight.

"Stay here, alright?" he told her. "Don't move."

She held onto his arm, unwilling to sever the tie with the man that was saving her life. "Where are you going?"

"You'll be fine," he assured her. His eyes met hers, direct and unflinching. "Look, I know we don't know each other but I give you my word: I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. Alright?"

Sara nodded.

She watched him reach for his hip holster. "Something tells me you know how to use one of these," he said, thumbing on the safety on his SIG before handing it to her. "Anybody gets past me you shoot, okay?"

Her hands were shaking but she held out the one that wasn't injured and curled it around the weapon. Yes, she did know how to use it. Another perk of being a cop's sister.

"Be careful," she whispered.

Steve smiled. "My partner would say that's not exactly my strong suit, but I'll do my best."

Giving her one last reassuring look, he started to trace his way back to the room's entrance and paused at the doorstep, listening for sounds. Footsteps echoed inside the hollow space, quick and forceful. Two different sets started up the stairs while others scattered around the ground floor.

Concealed by the darkness, Steve waited.

He wouldn't describe himself as reckless. Or crazy, as Danny called him. It was just who he'd been shaped to be. It was years of training and life's misfortunes that had turned him into the man he was today, a man whose propensity to save others trumped the will to preserve his own.

Fate had conspired not to cut him any slack over the years, so he'd had to make the most of what he had. And in this case, what he had were bullets and a frightened young woman who'd already been through enough.

As the men drew closer, he stuck his head out and aimed at the first target, hitting it twice. The second gunman immediately responded to the threat and opened fire, filling the air with the sound of multiple shots fired in rapid succession.

Steve ducked back inside the room to take cover, his breath coming in small spurts, hot and nervous. He could hear Sara's ragged breathing not too far from him and vowed not to let anyone get near her. Whatever it took.

A break in gunfire a few moments later gave him the chance he needed to step out of the room and try to keep as much distance as he could between the young woman and the killers. Leading with his rifle, he made it as far as the next one before he spotted another dark silhouette advancing along the hallway.

"Put the gun down," he hissed, the barrel of his assault rifle trained steadily at the man he now recognized as Officer Randy Wilson.

"Commander McGarrett, what a pleasure," the cop said, his own gun pointed at him. "I've always been a fan of Five-0 and its impressive success rate."

"Can't say the same of you," Steve retorted, taking a step forward. Despite the smug look on his face, Wilson instinctively backed up.

"I'm sorry we have to meet under these circumstances. Give us the girl and I promise no one will get hurt."

The former SEAL pinned him with an icy glare. "Over my dead body."

"As you wish," Wilson shrugged, failing to realize that his arrogance and inexperience were about to cost him dearly. As he raised his weapon to shoot again, Steve fired two quick rounds into his chest. The officer had no time to react as all the air was squeezed out of his lungs and his body hit the wall behind him with a loud thud before sliding down to the floor.

"Should've listened when you had the chance," Steve whispered darkly as he moved past the still form. It wasn't exactly the outcome he'd imagined but it would have to do.

Dropping low to the ground and close to the wall so that he would be less visible, he squinted his eyes for a better look and inched forward. He had counted five men in two different cars, which left him three more bad guys to catch.

Two of them suddenly appeared up the stairs, weapons at the ready. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Steve opened fire and the first man toppled, tumbling heavily down the stairwell. The second sought refuge inside what had once been the factory's cafeteria.

"Five-0! Drop your weapon!" he yelled, following him inside the large space that still held scattered remains of kitchen appliances, tables and chairs.

The gunman sprang out from behind an overturned table, firing a long burst of bullets as he ran. Steve made a dash towards the counter, waiting until he was out of harm's way to take aim and fire. The force of the bullets sent the attacker flying backward and he collapsed on the ground, his dead weight falling sideways onto the floor.

Four down, one to go.

Steve kicked the weapon away from the man's lax hand and stepped back out into the hallway. As his eyes darted around, looking for the fifth killer, he noticed something missing. Officer Wilson's body was no longer propped up against the wall where he'd left him.

Dread rose within him.

He was positive he'd hit him twice center mass. The man could only be alive if he was wearing a vest.

 _No!_

His thoughts immediately went to Sara and he rushed towards the back of the building to check on her.

The light of day was just beginning to seep in, allowing him better visibility as his gaze roamed across the area, searching for movement. He found none. Everything was as silent as he hoped it would be.

Until Sara stepped out from her hiding spot, gun drawn.

"Easy, easy, it's me!", he said, holding his arms out.

The young woman lowered her weapon, visibly relieved to see him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he replied, failing to mention the two armed men that were probably still in the building. She didn't need to worry about that.

"Is it over?"

"It will be. Soon."

She gave him a numb nod as the stress of the last few days finally hit her full force. "I think I'm going to sleep now…" she said weakly, feeling the ground shift under her feet. She reached out a hand but dropped it before she could touch him as her legs suddenly gave out from beneath her.

Supportive arms around her waist stopped her from falling to the floor. "What? No no no no, you need to stay awake!" Steve urged her. She felt cold to the touch and her eyes were unfocused and glassy. "Hey, listen to me, we have a deal: you stay awake so I can get you out of here. You gotta help me out… Just a little longer, alright?"

She held onto him tightly, trying to focus on his voice through the haze of pain that was beginning to close in around her.

 _Just a little longer…_

Steve was about to scoop her into his arms when he saw _s_ omething fall through the open window. His eyes went wide as they fixed on the oval, arrow-like object and followed in horrible slow motion its descent to the floor.

 _Fuck._

This was something he hadn't anticipated.

Without even thinking he threw himself at Sara, shielding her with his body and tackling them both to the ground as far as he could from the device as it exploded with a deafening bang.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six**

A/N: I'm in a good mood today so you guys get another chapter sooner than I had planned. I want to finish posting this story before the premiere so I can focus on that and write the post-ep fic I already have in mind. Speaking of which, if anyone's interested in being a beta reader I could use a second opinion and a grammar check on my future stories.

This said, brace yourselves for another long one!

* * *

Danny braked his Camaro behind Steve's truck and killed the engine, glancing at his tired face in the rearview mirror as he unbuckled his seatbelt. He tightened the strips of his tac vest, touched his hip to make sure his weapon was in place and dropped his phone into his pocket before climbing out of the vehicle, the worry for his partner and what kind of trouble he could already be in mounting with each second as he kept glancing around but couldn't see him anywhere.

Lou, Tani and Junior were only a few minutes away, as were the unit and the ambulance that 911 had dispatched at the location. The situation could get real messy real fast, and he needed all the backup he could get.

Two dark SUVs were sitting in front of an abandoned factory on the other side of the road, beams pointing towards the building and doors open as if the occupants had left in a rush. Danny's hand instinctively reached for the gun at his side.

That wasn't a good sign.

Inching closer, he noticed a man leaning heavily against the hood of one of the vehicles, hunched over as if in pain.

"Five-0, put your hands where I can see them!"

The man's whole body stilled, then straightened, but he did as instructed and held his hands up, turning around to face him. A shadow crossed Danny's features when he realized it was none other than the suspect they'd been looking for. He could see the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans and adjusted the grip on his own H&K, ready to shoot if necessary.

"Randall Wilson, you're under arrest!"

The sneer on the officer's face despite the obvious distress he was in sent a chill down his spine. "I'd step back if I were you, detective," he said, his voice deep and ominous.

Weapon still trained on Wilson, Danny frantically looked around for signs of his partner or any kind of activity. Everything around them was silent, and he took that as a sign that something was terribly wrong. Knowing Steve's shooting abilities and his penchant for loud, messy exploits, the fact that their suspect was still walking on his own two feet was enough to quicken his heartbeat to dangerous levels.

All at once, he heard a loud burst and the ground beneath his feet was rocked by what sounded like an explosion. He saw the building shake on its foundation and ducked for cover, crouching behind one of the SUVs and expecting a hail of smoke and debris to fill the air. There was none. Only a dark, grey cloud of dust and smoke flowing out of the building's front door.

Tires screeched behind him.

The cavalry was there.

From his crouched position, Danny noticed another man running towards them from the side of the building, holding what looked like a rifle. He stopped as he realized he was surrounded by cops and tried to dash off, but Tani and Junior were beside him in an instant. "On the ground, hands up!" they shouted in unison. The man nailed the task force members with a murderous look but slowly lowered his body to the concrete and assumed the position.

"You okay, Danny?" Grover asked.

"I'm fine," he replied in annoyance as he rose to his feet.

"Meet Lee Yan Zhang, leader of the Order of the White Tiger." Lou couldn't hide the satisfaction in his voice. This was a major accomplishment for the task force, one that would hopefully lead to more arrests and less drug on the streets. "Some weapon you got here, huh? Whatcha need it for?" he said, hauling the man up by his handcuffs and unceremoniously dragging him towards the HPD cruiser parked nearby.

Danny looked at the RPG in Grover's hand and froze. _That_ was what had caused the explosion. Fear gripped onto him as he found himself running to the side of the building, right where Zhang had just come from, and staring in disbelief at the thick smoke coming up from two of the windows on the upper story.

 _Damn it, McGarrett, why don't you ever wait for backup?_

His heart rate began to speed up again. The rest of the windows were boarded up so there was no way of telling how bad the damage was from the outside but there was a definite chance that the damaged insides put the building at risk of collapse.

They needed to get whoever was inside out immediately.

"Lou, call FD, Steve might be trapped in the building!" He yelled, yanking his cell phone from his pocket and racing back to join the rest of the team.

It was a long shot, but he had to try.

" _McGarrett. Leave a message,_ " was the concise statement that greeted him as the call went straight to voicemail.

"Where's my partner?" the Jersey native screamed, lunging at Wilson and roughly grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. "Where is he, huh? What'd you do?"

The former cop nodded toward the building, a satisfied grin on his face. "Don't need to worry about them anymore, detective."

 _Them?_

 _Had Steve found the girl?_

"Is Sara Patterson inside too?"

Wilson's grin spread as all eyes fixed on the grey cloud rising from the factory's entryway. Danny sprinted towards it, only to be physically blocked after a few steps.

"Danny, stop!" Lou pleaded. "There might be structural damage, it's too dangerous!"

Danny stared at him, a bewildered expression on his face. "What are you saying? We need to get them out!"

"Fire Department will be here soon. They'll take care of it."

"No!" He cried out, surprised that his teammate could even voice the possibility of leaving Steve inside. "Let me go, Lou!"

"Hey! Hey, Listen! I understand how you feel—"

"No, you don't!" Danny said in a voice too high to be his own, wrenching away from him. "How the hell could you? You've never been trapped in a building! You don't know what that's like!"

Grover's shoulders sagged. That was true. He had no idea how his friend was feeling. "You can't risk your life too," he eventually said, trying to appeal to Williams' rational side. "Think about the kids. What if something happens to you?"

"What if something happens to him?" Danny replied, despair evident in his tone.

"You know McGarrett will understand. Look, if there's anyone who can survive this it's him."

There it was again. The assumption that Steve was some sort of invincible hero.

"What if he can't? What if he's injured?"

Silence stretched out for a moment, filling the space between them. Then the older man held out his hands in surrender. "I don't have an answer for you, Danny. I just trust you'll do what's best here. For you, and the people who care about you."

Danny looked at the building, then back at Grover. He desperately wanted to get inside to check if Steve was okay but kept seeing Grace and Charlie asleep in his bed, so innocent and sweet. The most precious things in his life.

He tried calling Steve again, and again his call went unanswered.

The crazy SEAL would blatantly ignore the danger if the situation was reversed and that made him feel like he was letting his partner down, but he also couldn't bear the thought of his children suffering for the consequences of his actions.

Letting out a cry of frustration, he stormed off in the direction of their prisoners, gave Wilson a solid punch to the gut and went back to his car to wait for FD.

* * *

It was the day before the team hit J-bad. They were coming back from patrol when one of the tires on the Humvee popped. The sun had just set, and the road was deserted. Or so they thought. As Lieutenant Junior Grade Frank Trevino set the jack and began changing the tire, the blast from a rocket propelled grenade landing a few feet from them caused the vehicle to fall on top of him.

Steve McGarrett had seen his share of casualties during his missions overseas, but this particular incident had always haunted him. The sight of his friend crushed under the weight of the armored vehicle and his cries for help had resonated in his ears long after he'd returned home.

Acting on instinct, he and a fellow officer had immediately sprinted into action, trying to lift the vehicle off Trevino, who had just missed the birth of his son and didn't want to die without at least holding him once. Through sheer force of will, they were able to take enough of the weight off to pull the pinned man to safety and back to base camp.

Steve had suffered a herniated disc and some nerve damage and had to be medically evacuated, but LTJG Trevino had lived and retired as Lieutenant a few years later. He remembered seeing him at his father's funeral, offering support along with his young son, and they'd occasionally kept in touch over the years.

If Trevino was here, he'd ask him if the burning in his lungs was one of the side effects of being pinned under a heavy weight. But this wasn't the 'Stan, and there were no soldiers around to answer his questions or set him free.

He had recognized the Mk 80 rocket – or 'Bunker Buster' as they used to call it in the field for its capacity to collapse caves and lightly constructed buildings, as soon as he'd seen it flying through the window and knew there was no way to escape its destructive power. He could only try to get as far from it as possible and hope for the best. An outcome that given his current condition, he hadn't exactly managed to achieve.

A fit of coughing rocked his frame, and he spat out a mouthful of blood and dirt. The air was thick around him, still swirling with particles of dust and debris. His ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton. He knew they'd start ringing soon.

Blinking a couple of times to clear the grit that had settled on his face and hair away from his eyes and get the room – or whatever was left of it into focus, he tried to move slightly to assess his conditions. He was laying on his back, his left leg pinned under a slab of cement along with his left hip and part of his torso. The flat piece had fallen at an angle, blocking only part of his body but not allowing him enough movement to get free. He was no engineer, but considering the instability of the whole building as a result of the explosion he knew there was a chance it could shift and crush him completely.

Pain wasn't so bad at the moment. Besides a stinging sensation in his arm and back, caught in the heat wave of the explosion, his trapped limb was mostly numb and as long as he didn't strain his lungs he could breathe just fine, though he was sure the impact had at least cracked a few ribs.

He remembered a flash of light followed by a blast wave, like being slammed by some invisible force. Then a deafening concussion that had knocked plaster and concrete off the ceiling and walls. Heat stinging his skin. And suddenly, total silence. He must've lost consciousness after that.

Shaking his head as if the movement would clear the dizziness and confusion away, Steve lifted his head to get a better view of his surroundings. Morning light filtered through the window, and as he glanced to his right he made out another form laying on the ground not too far from him.

 _Sara_.

She was laying on her side amidst the pile of rubble, her head turned away from him. Steve swallowed hard. He had tried to protect her from the blast, hoping to push her far enough so that she wouldn't be harmed, but judging from her still body he had let yet another person down.

"Sara?" He called out, his voice hoarse. "You alright?"

No movement. She had suffered a concussion during her abduction and her conditions had started to deteriorate right before they'd been hit so he was concerned about her being unconscious for too long.

"Sara!" he called again, coughing up more blood and dirt. He tried to shift his body to get closer and failed, letting out a frustrated sigh. Sitting still and witnessing the events wasn't his strong suit, especially when another life was at stake, but the heavy piece of concrete was preventing even the smaller movement.

Pinned to the ground, unable to move, Steve was helpless against the thoughts racing through his brain, vivid flashes of unwelcome memories reminding him of all he'd lost. Everyone he'd ever been close to had either died, left or betrayed him. Everything he touched crumbled before his very eyes.

He wished he could hear his partner's voice. Danny wasn't far behind when they'd spoken on the phone, he had to be close by. _Danny_. The only person who had ever stuck by his side, who'd seen his flaws and still decided he was worth his friendship and an active role in his kids' lives. The one meaningful connection in his erratic, solitary life. He could really use his help right now.

"Commander McGarrett?" Sara's faint voice finally broke the silence.

Steve breathed a sigh of relief. "Over here."

"What happened?"

"Explosion," he said, figuring he'd give her the short version of it. "Can you move?"

"I, uh… I'm not sure." She made an attempt to lie on her back. It took some effort, but she eventually succeeded. "My legs… I'm stuck."

Steve slammed an angry fist down hard amid the rubble. Winced, and tried to cover the pain up by gritting his teeth as hard as he could. He had promised to keep her safe. Gave his word to her brother that he'd find her and bring her back to him. And now they were both trapped.

Summoning the strength that had helped lift the armored truck off his friend's body, he tried to move the piece of concrete again. This time, he couldn't silence the growl that came with the effort.

"What's wrong?"

Sweat burst on his forehead as he surrendered to the futility of his action. "Can't move either. But don't worry, help's gonna be here soon," he reassured her.

"Does anybody know we're here?" Sara's tone betrayed a hint of hope.

"My partner. I talked to him on the phone right before I found you. He was on his way."

The cavalry was probably already outside but Steve knew they wouldn't let anyone in until the building was secured. Careful not to jostle his already injured ribs, he started to search the space around him for anything he could use to alert them to his position, realizing with dismay that his rifle was nowhere in sight, and neither was his cell phone. With such limited options, figuring a way out was starting to look grimmer by the second.

But Steve wasn't a quitter, and as long as they were alive and talking there was hope.

"It's gonna be alright. They're gonna get us out of here soon," he repeated, putting as much conviction into his voice as he could muster.

Sara nodded, the answer seeming to appease her for the moment.

Steve wanted to believe that as much as she did. There were cracks visible on the ceiling and the walls all around them, and he could've sworn they were getting bigger.

Danny was their only chance.

If another collapse didn't kill them first.

* * *

"What the hell is taking them so long?"

The Fire Department had shown up shortly after the explosion and according to Danny, was now taking its sweet time inspecting the building and agreeing on a course of action.

"I told you. Building's not secure. They can't risk going in without a proper plan."

Patience had never been Danny's forte. Sitting there worrying about what might be happening inside was driving him crazy. "We're wasting time!"

Lou was failing miserably at reassuring his friend. He had been at it for the last twenty minutes and was searching for more words that could appease him when the FD Lieutenant interrupted them.

"Detective, may I have a word?"

Lieutenant Johnson was a veteran of the department. A good man in a storm, as they said. The kind of person you want by your side during a crisis. Danny crossed his arms over his chest and focused his attention on him. "Of course. What's going on?"

"We've studied the blueprints and completed the search of the ground floor. There's a body near the bottom of the stairs but it doesn't match the description of your man."

He and Grover both sighed in relief.

"Stairs to the first floor have been damaged by the explosion, so we need to find another way to get upstairs." He let the news sink in for a moment and then continued. "Our main concern here is gas lines. We have to make sure there are no leaks before we start using our cutting tools. I called the gas company, they'll be here in 15 minutes or so to assess the situation and turn off the gas if necessary. I can't risk any of my men getting hurt."

"Fifteen more minutes?" Danny cried out. "And then what, another hour? This is ridiculous!"

Lieutenant Johnson didn't acknowledge the outburst. He had been in the younger man's position too many times to take it personally.

Lou raised his finger in warning to cut Danny off and leveled his gaze on Johnson. "Our friend is in there, Lieutenant. And he might already be hurt. We can't risk his life either. Do whatever you need to do, but do it as fast as you can." He spoke with the kind of firm, decisive tone that left no doubts about the seriousness of his request.

The Lieutenant nodded, put his firefighter cap on and walked away.

"I don't like this, Lou. I don't like it one bit…" Danny muttered as he ran a hand over his hair. "I have a bad feeling…"

He tried to shake the alarming thoughts off his mind and looked up towards the building again, wishing his stubborn partner would once again prove him wrong.

* * *

"I think I did it!"

Sara's excited voice tore Steve away from his own dark musings. He turned to look at her, wincing as he did so, and watched her slowly rise to her feet.

She was _free_.

He blinked, and for a moment he could've sworn it was Catherine standing there, a blue camouflage Navy jacket hanging loosely around her slender figure, dark hair framing her face. Another blink, and the spell was broken. Catherine's face morphed back into Sara's, wobbly making her way towards him.

"You okay?"

"I really should be the one asking you that," she admitted, taking in the sight of his trapped body as she lowered herself to the ground next to him. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this mess, I didn't mean for any of this to happen." Her hand found his arm and she touched it gently, as if to reassure herself of his presence. "I just couldn't ignore what Andrew was doing anymore…"

Steve shifted beneath her touch. "Hey, it's alright," he said, a sad smile on his lips. "You did nothing wrong. And we'll be out of here in no time so tell me what you know and I'll put his ass in jail where he belongs."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Who says I can't?"

Sara pulled her knees up to her chest and shuddered. Her gaze roamed from the partially blocked entrance to the overturned pieces of equipment to the window on the far side of the room. "This," she replied, holding out her hands. "How are we supposed to get out? You can't even move."

"But you can."

She shifted her stare back to his face. "I'm not leaving you."

Steve didn't like the idea any more than she did, but it was their only option. He had seen civilians and fellow soldiers suffer the consequences of prolonged entrapment and knew it was only a matter of time before his condition turned from treatable to fatal. Despite his partner's complaints that he didn't value his own life as much as he should, he still had people and reasons to live for. Plus, this really sounded like an undignified way to go.

"Yes, you are. Go find help."

Sara sat still as she considered her options. The exit was partially blocked by the debris; if she tried climbing over it, there was no guarantee what she'd find on the other side. Maybe she could reach the window, hoping the floor wouldn't collapse under her weight. That way she wouldn't have to leave him. She got up, determined to tell him that no, she wasn't going anywhere, when her eyes spotted something on the ground.

"I found your phone!"

The excitement of the finding quickly turned to disappointment when she realized the device wasn't working. "Screen's broken," she said, handing it to Steve.

He eagerly took it, turning it in his hands to inspect the damage. Other than the cracked display, there didn't appear to be anything else broken. Hope started to seep through him as he took out the back cover and removed the battery. It was intact. So were the circuits, as much as he could see.

"Hold on, I think it's still usable," he announced. Quickly reinserting the battery, he tried turning on the phone again and the screen finally lit up. "See? What'd I tell you?"

With renewed faith in a positive outcome of their currently dire situation, Steve searched for his partner's number and pressed the phone to his ear.

Danny picked up at the first ring. "Steve?" His voice had a panicked edge Steve had only heard a handful of times before and had vowed never to hear again.

"Hey, partner," he tried to sound like he had everything under control, knowing full well Danny would call his bluff in a second.

"Are you okay? Where are you? Is Sara with you?"

"Easy with the questions, man..." Even through the ringing in his ears, Steve could hear his friend's rapidly-mounting panic. He wanted to reassure him, tell him everything would be alright and that he was sorry for making him worry, but time was of the essence and he needed to get straight to the point. "Listen, I got a situation here and I'm gonna need some help. We're on the first floor, last room to the left. Wilson and a couple of Gaynes' men tried to kill us. They fired an RPG and-"

"Why'd you do it, huh? Why'd you have to go in all by yourself when you knew I was right behind?" Danny exploded, his outburst so unexpected it almost surprised him too. He was struggling with his emotions and right now, anger was coming on top of all the others. "Why don't you _ever_ listen?"

Steve sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't need this. Not right now. Yes, Danny was right. _Again_. But this wasn't the time for it. He couldn't feel his leg anymore, and his breathing wasn't getting any better. "Danny… please hear me out…" he said, and the weariness he was feeling seeped through his voice.

Danny felt his heart sinking to the soles of his shoes. Something in his partner's tone had dissolved all his anger away, leaving him still and silent and giving Steve the cue he'd been waiting for to continue. "I'm stuck under a piece of cement. I can't move, so you gotta get someone up here, alright?"

Of all the scenarios Danny had imagined in his head, none featured McGarrett trapped and unable to move. Steve was the one with the crazy plans, the one who had gotten them out when they were trapped in a similarly collapsed building a few years before. The possibility that he could —once again, potentially lose his life was enough to make his heart skyrocket in his chest and his skin prickle with goosebumps.

"Danny, are you okay?"

Lou's voice seemed to come out of nowhere. No, he was _not_ alright. He was not even marginally okay. In fact, he'd rarely been this scared in all his life. He swallowed, trying to shake off the panic that was holding him in its grip. "How bad is it?"

No reply. On the other end of the line, he could hear his partner's ragged breathing.

"Steve? Please..."

Steve ran a hand over his mouth. He looked at Sara, who was worriedly staring at him, and pictured his partner's equally concerned face. There was no point in lying to either of them. "Remember when I told you I wasn't gonna obsess over something that might not even happen?"

Danny nodded even if he knew Steve couldn't see him.

"Well, this is real, man. Get somebody in here. Fast."

A bead of sweat formed on Danny's forehead and began to roll down his face. He blinked back tears and searched Lou's gaze with his own.

"We'll be right there."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter seven**

A/N: So after two long chapters you guys are not going to mind a shorter one, right? It needed to be cut to keep the story flowing. I promise to update quicker to make up for that.

I still don't own anything, and I'm still grateful for all your feedbacks and to everyone who volunteered to be my beta reader.

Now take a deep breath and start reading…

* * *

"You look ridiculous in that hat."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Steve couldn't help but laugh at the sight of his partner wearing a firefighter's helmet. He immediately regretted it when he hissed in pain and tried hard not to cough again.

"It's good to see you too, partner."

True to his word, Danny had shown up minutes after their phone conversation. The man wasn't comfortable with heights and absolutely terrified of confined spaces, but had climbed on the ladder that the firefighters had pushed through the window nonetheless. He'd squatted down next to him and to Steve's surprise, had taken his hand and clasped it between his own.

Steve wasn't a touchy-feely kind of guy but right now, Danny didn't care. He needed the physical contact as much as he knew the other man did.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, looking straight in his eyes.

The lie that the former SEAL had carefully prepared died on his lips. "Hurts to breathe," he admitted. "And I can't feel my left leg anymore."

Danny nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. Hearing his friend say that he was not okay was something he'd rarely experienced, and it scared the hell out of him. Steve was in pain, and there was nothing he could do to fix that. Except maybe yell at the rescue workers. "Where are the damn paramedics?"

"Waiting for my signal," one of the firefighters replied.

"Then give it to them!"

"It's okay, Danny. Let them do their job." Steve freed his hand from his partner's grasp and patted the man's knee in a _'I'm fine'_ gesture. "Why don't you help Sara? She needs to get checked out. Call her brother, have him meet her at the hospital."

Danny nodded again and rose to his feet, holding out his hand in her direction. Sara looked at him, then at Steve. "I, uh… I can wait. We can leave together."

"Hey, it's alright. My partner's going to come right up. Go see your brother."

The desire to be reunited with her brother was too strong, and Sara finally caved in. She accepted Danny's hand and stood up. "I'll see you later?"

Steve's lips curled upwards. "See you later."

Sara didn't return his smile as she let Danny escort her out the window and down the ladder. She turned around a couple of times, as if trying to convince herself she was making the right decision. "He saved my life," she whispered, her voice so small it was almost inaudible.

"He'll be alright," Danny replied, more to reassure himself than her.

When he came back a short while later, still wearing the helmet, the paramedics had placed an oxygen mask on his partner's mouth and nose and were monitoring his vitals through a blood pressure cuff around his arm and EKG pads on his chest. Danny let them work, attentively watching every move, and when it looked like they had everything under control he called one of them aside. His face was familiar, though his name escaped him at the moment. He had probably treated them before.

"How is he?" he asked as he read the tag on the man's uniform. S. Kaimee. _Sam_. Sam had patched him up after the building collapse five years before, and had been outside the Ko'olau ballrooms during Grace's infamous winter-formal-turned-hostage-situation. Sam was good people.

"I gave him 10mg of morphine and started an IV to keep him hydrated, he should be feeling more comfortable soon."

"He said he can't feel his leg."

"That's common in injuries like this," the paramedic explained. "Lack of perfusion to a limb can interrupt nerve transmissions and present like paralysis after a spinal cord injury."

Danny shifted from one foot to another as he listened, chewing on his lower lip. The frown on his face matched the panicked turmoil raging inside of him. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"We won't know that until he's rescued. He may have internal injuries, and we don't know what condition his leg's in. Crush injuries are tricky, symptoms can present hours after being freed so we'll have to keep a close eye on him."

"Thanks," he replied as his frown deepened. It wasn't the answer he'd hoped for but then again, nothing was ever easy with his partner.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he crouched next to Steve again. His eyes were closed and the careful breaths he was taking told Danny that he was still in pain so he did the only thing he could. He offered comfort.

"Still here," Steve said as he felt his partner's hand on his shoulder.

"You better be," Danny replied. "The restaurant won't open itself. There's too much we need to do so don't even think about leaving me to deal with all of it alone."

Steve chewed at his lips, tasting blood on his tongue. "Funny how… you were worried about me getting cancer when… something like this could kill me a lot faster."

The Jersey native shook his head. He didn't want to hear the word 'kill' and 'death' associated with his partner's name. Ever. He'd been through the gut-wrenching feeling of powerlessness before during Steve's too many brushes with mortality and those were enough to last him two lifetimes.

He could hear the short, shallow breaths beneath the mask and knew that despite the aid his friend wasn't getting enough oxygen. The slight tremors coursing through his body weren't missed either. Danny reached out to touch his cheek like he did to test Grace and Charlie's temperature when they were sick and felt the cold skin under his touch. He glanced over at Sam, who was already ahead of him and unfolding a thermal blanket. Together, they placed it over Steve's body, making sure they covered every exposed inch of it.

"You know, I do this with my kids. Never thought I'd tuck in a grown adult," Danny teased.

The Five-0 leader smiled briefly before turning suddenly very serious. "You should go, Danny. The whole building is unstable. This floor could collapse at any moment."

"Forget about it."

"Danny…"

"That's what you said when that bomb was threatening to wipe us both off the face of the earth, remember? It goes both ways, buddy. I'm not gonna leave you."

Steve shook his head. "You should. For Charlie and Grace." He reached up and tugged the oxygen mask off his face, lowering it around his neck as he searched his best friend's eyes. "They need their dad. It's my job to…make sure you come home to them every night."

Danny's expression softened. "I know. And you did it, buddy. You kept me safe for eight years. Now keep the mask on," he said, slipping it back over his face. "It's gonna help you breathe."

Behind them, the firefighters were busy setting up their gear to begin the extraction. Danny silently willed them to hurry up. Steve was being quieter than usual, and eerily honest. Sure, it may have to do with his injuries but it was freaking him out nonetheless. His thumb started to rub small circles into his partner's shoulder. "They're almost ready," he whispered. "They're gonna get you out soon."

"Okay," Steve said faintly as he closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. The morphine was starting to work and he could feel the pain slowly fade to the background. The oppressive sensation of being trapped like an animal was still there though, making him aware of each and every one of the two hundred and fifty-one minutes he'd spent under the heavy piece of cement. A little over four hours, according to his watch.

"Tell me about the case," he asked to try and get his mind off the dark thoughts lingering just below the surface.

The request surprised Danny for a moment but he quickly realized Steve needed the distraction and he needed to talk. It would do both of them good. "The case… yeah, well, Junior checked Officer Wilson's records and found out he went to school with Gaynes. That scumbag lawyer also represented him in court when he was accused of bribery and got him acquitted. Go figure, huh?"

The ex-SEAL smiled at his partner's colorful report of the facts.

"He also found out they're both tied to the Yakuza so I'm guessing Sara found out something she shouldn't have, right?"

"Yeah she, uh… told me she realized her boss was dealing d-drugs and making money on the side so she started… putting evidence together to expose him. She's quite the detective, you know… also knows how to p-pick locks and shoot guns."

"Ah, a woman after your own heart," Danny smiled.

"Shut up," Steve replied, feigning annoyance. "You know I don't mean it that way."

Before it could veer into uncharted territory, their conversation was interrupted by two firefighters approaching.

"Commander McGarrett, what do you say we get you out of there?" one of them asked.

"I'd… say it sounds great."

"Alright, let's get ready. Detective Williams, you need to go back down. This part of the building is too unstable and we need to evacuate all non-essential personnel. That goes for the paramedics as well."

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm keeping this stupid hat on like you asked and that's as far as I'm willing to go."

"Danny, please just listen to them. I'll be fine." Steve pushed himself up in an attempt to get his partner's attention, shifting his upper body in the process and letting out a gasp when his chest exploded with pain.

"Hey, hey, don't move," Danny said urgently, putting a hand on his shoulder and helping him ease back to the debris behind him.

"Go…" Steve whispered beneath the mask, wheezing as if he was having difficulties drawing in a proper breath. "We'll be right down."

"Hey, what's wrong?" Danny addressed Sam in alarm. "Why is he struggling to breathe?"

The young Hawaiian gave him a sympathetic look. "The impact may have cracked some ribs, and the continued pressure isn't helping. Plus, the morphine I gave him slowed down his brain's activities, affecting his respiration rate. Go," he added, "I'll stay with him and get him ready for the extraction."

Danny knew they didn't have much time, and that the stubborn Neanderthal wouldn't budge. He didn't want to go but the sooner he left, the sooner they could start extricating him from the rubble. So he caved in, gave him a slight nod and reluctantly stood up, letting one of the firefighters guide him down the ladder.

Steve's gaze followed him until he disappeared. Only then, finally reassured that his best friend was out of harm's way, he steeled himself for what was about to come and addressed the rescue workers. "Let's do this."

Danny felt like he was betraying his partner all over again, leaving him behind when he needed him the most. As he descended towards safety, squinting at a sunlight that was almost too bright to bear, he said a silent prayer that the rescue would go smoothly. After being through so much over the last eight years, a little bit of luck would be a welcome change of pace.

His wish seemed to come true about fifteen minutes later when he saw the firefighters securing a basket with Steve safely strapped into it and slowly lowering it down the ladder. Releasing the breath he'd been holding he quickly jogged towards the engine truck, only to be stopped by Duke to answer a few case-related questions.

Doing his best to pay attention to what was being said to him, Danny followed from the corner of his eye as the firefighters carried the basket towards the ambulance where Sam and the other EMT helped load his partner inside and started working on him.

He saw Steve fight the cervical collar and try to sit up, probably trying to convince them that he was fine and didn't need attention. He also noticed that both his legs were moving and breathed another sigh of relief as he scratched permanent, life-altering injuries like paralysis from his 'worst-case scenario' list.

Which is why the paramedics' simultaneous shouts of "He's in V-fib!" and "No pulse!" a moment later took him completely by surprise.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter eight**

A/N: I know, I know… I apologize for the big, bad, mean cliffhanger. I like to do that every once in a while when the story demands it, but I'm making up for it as promised and updating sooner than I had originally planned.

On a side note, my stories will always be centered about Steve. He's the character that drew me into the show and the one I like to write about. I also like to hurt him, which I clearly state at the beginning of each story. If you don't like it or feel uncomfortable reading it, go read something else. There's plenty of good stories and talented authors around.

Medical disclaimer applies to this chapter. I don't have a degree, just an internet connection.

* * *

Danny knew panic.

It was a spontaneous, uncontrolled reaction that had defined the most significant events in his life. Exacerbated by his natural disposition, it had accompanied him throughout his childhood, adolescence and adult life, triggered by his desire to keep the people he loved safe.

In his personal scale there was panic, and then there was heart-stopping fear, which he'd developed on the job thanks to his trouble-magnet partner. It was the terror he had experienced when they'd found Steve's unmoving body in a laundry basement, or trying not to crash a plane as his friend bled to death at his side.

Hearing the paramedics' alarmed cries had sent him into a tailspin of the same uncontrolled despair. He started to move on autopilot as if drawn by an invisible thread, his eyes glued to the scene unfolding in the back of the ambulance. Duke was staring too, the questions he wanted to ask suddenly forgotten. Just like Lou and the rest of the team, all frozen in shock at the unexpected turn of events.

"He's not breathing!"

"Starting compressions!"

"What happened?" He asked in the shakiest, smallest voice that had ever come out of his mouth. When no one paid him any attention he moved closer, gaze still riveted on his partner's still form and Sam performing CPR to maintain a flow of oxygenated blood to his vital organs.

"What's going on?" he repeated as the second EMT reached for the AED, preparing it for use. After cutting Steve's shirt to expose his chest, he expertly placed one pad on the right side, just below the collarbone, and the other on the lower left side around the hands of his colleague who was still performing the cardiopulmonary resuscitation.

"Your partner's in cardiac arrest. We're trying to stabilize him for transport. Please don't come any closer," the emergency technician admonished before yelling "Clear!" and pushing the shock button.

Steve's body jerked on the stretcher and Danny felt his legs buckle. He registered a light pressure on his shoulder and turned to see Lou standing next to him, an equally astounded expression on his face.

His conscious mind was having a hard time processing what he was seeing. Steve was fine a minute ago. He was talking, moving, and he could see no external injuries on his body. So how was that possible?

"Still no pulse. Resuming chest compressions!"

Danny had a thousand questions but didn't dare utter a single word for fear of disturbing the emergency workers struggling to save his best friend's life, knowing full well that the chances of survival dropped with every minute that passed.

The second time they shocked Steve he felt as if his own heart had stopped beating. Tears filled his eyes and he covered his face with his hands as if not seeing would somehow make it not real. Not seeing meant still being able to hear though, listen to words that made no sense to him and frantic exchanges of vitals and numbers until a rhythm was finally restored and they got ready to leave.

"Detective, we need to go. Jump in if you want to come or I'll see you at the hospital."

Not needing any further encouragement and immediately dismissing the second option, Danny climbed into the back of the ambulance and stood at his partner's side just as he'd done on the ride back from the beach where he'd crash-landed the plane. This time his own ribs weren't cracked but he felt similarly crushed and unable to breathe.

The rest of Five-0 gathered outside as Lou closed the doors and told him they'd be right behind.

As the ambulance started racing towards the nearest facility, Steve was already intubated and receiving manual ventilation through the ambu bag. Despite being now relatively stable, the expression on Sam's face was anything but reassuring. A moment later, a change in the EKG reading prompted the paramedic to enlist Danny's help.

"Detective, I need you to keep bagging him while I start another IV."

The Jersey native looked at the tubes already sneaking out of his friend's arms. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Here," the other man continued, skirting over the issue. "You know how to do it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. Why does he need it?"

The young Hawaiian quickly stood up and moved over so Danny could take his place. "We need to maintain kidney function. He needs fluids and sodium bicarbonate to prevent more irregular heartbeats and renal failure."

Not entirely satisfied by the answer and yet aware that it was all he was going to get, Danny started focusing on the task of keeping his partner alive.

"Come on, buddy, come on…"

 _I can do this…_

 _I can do this…_

It had been years since he'd had to squeeze air into somebody else's lungs. But this wasn't just anybody. This was Steve. His best friend, the man he could no longer imagine his life without. As he took over the EMT's job and started his mental count of _'one, two, three, squeeze'_ he tried not to look at Steve's lax face and the much-too-still hands at his sides and concentrated on delivering the perfect volume of air with each compression while the other man proceeded to hook a second bag of saline and take another round of vitals.

Which apparently weren't as good as he'd hoped.

"Step on it, Lukas, what's the ETA?" Sam called to his partner behind the wheel.

"Five minutes."

"Make it three!"

Danny's head shot up. "What's going on?"

The younger man took the ambu bag from his shaky hands and looked him straight in the eye. "Let's get him to the hospital, alright? I'll explain everything to you once he's taken care of."

Unable to do anything but nod, Danny swallowed hard and started counting the seconds in his head, willing the vehicle to go as fast as it could.

Three minutes.

180 seconds.

 _179… 178…177…_

"Come on, buddy… where's your SuperSEAL strength?" He said softly. "You got this, you hear me? You're gonna be alright. You're gonna be alright…"

 _166… 165… 164…_

Danny didn't know Lukas but he sure as hell felt thankful when he realized the young man had made the drive in less than three minutes, stopping his countdown at 31 seconds. The back doors of the ambulance opened with a clunk and suddenly there were voices assaulting his ears and people crowding the space around him. The stretcher with Steve's still frighteningly motionless body was wheeled out of the emergency vehicle and inside the ER before he could even make it to the sliding doors.

As he stepped through them and got a glimpse of it disappearing into a trauma room, he heard Sam call his name.

"Detective Williams? Come with me," the Hawaiian man said, nodding towards the elevator. "Let's go get a cup of coffee, it's gonna be a while."

* * *

"So what, he had a heart attack?"

"No. That wasn't a heart attack. We call it SCA – sudden cardiac arrest, and it was caused by the trauma from the collapse."

Danny ran a hand through his hair. Whatever the name was, he still couldn't process the sudden change in his friend's condition. "But he was okay… I mean, you saw him. He was talking. I don't understand…"

The half-empty cup of coffee he'd forced himself to drink sat discarded on the floor as he worriedly paced back and forth in the doctor's lounge, alternating between throwing inquiring glances at the paramedic and shaking his head in frustration.

"I know, it's a lot to take in," Sam nodded. "Are you familiar with a medical condition known as 'crush syndrome'?"

"I, uh… yeah, I think. My dad was a firefighter. He always had stories about the people they rescued..."

"Alright, so you know that when a limb or part of the body is trapped under concrete or other material for a long period of time blood flow is cut off. As a result, muscle tissues begin to die, releasing chemicals like proteins and potassium. When the concrete is lifted and circulation is restored, these toxins are carried throughout the body and can cause kidney damage or cardiac problems." Danny's posture was stock-still as he absorbed the news, the clenching and unclenching of his jaw the only external sign of distress. "That's what happened to your partner," the paramedic explained. "The elevated levels of potassium in his bloodstream caused the cardiac arrest."

"The smiling death..." Danny whispered as an involuntary shiver coursed through his body. "That's what they called it."

The young Hawaiian nodded again. "Yes. I've heard the term too."

He wished he hadn't remembered, because the picture his father's stories were painting left Steve almost no chance of survival and he wasn't ready to accept that. Not today, not ever. He walked over to the small couch on his left and collapsed onto it, deflating with a long sigh as he rested his elbows on his knees and hung his head, staring at the linoleum floor.

So much for wishing for a smooth rescue. This was as worse as it could get.

"Is he, uh… is he gonna live?"

Sam sat down next to him, spreading out his arms in a _'I wish I knew'_ gesture. "Doctors are doing everything they can. They'll admit him to the ICU to keep him under observation and start treating him against hypotension and renal failure. I'm not gonna lie to you, it is a very serious condition but he has a fighting chance, and if Commander McGarrett is as tough as they say he is you shouldn't lose hope."

Danny's lips curled upwards. "He's the most stubborn son of a bitch I've ever met. He's not gonna go out without a fight."

"Then you already have your answer."

* * *

Hours later, Danny was still pacing.

Tired and over-caffeinated, he was doing his best to ignore the stares of his friends and HPD colleagues gathered outside the ICU doors and the throbbing in his head that had given him no respite since morning.

The fingers of his right hand were curled protectively around the object resting on his palm.

Steve's badge.

One of the nurses had given it to him as they collected his friend's personal items. He had accepted it with shaky hands, nodding that _of course_ he would hold on to it until he could give it back.

If— _when_ Steve got better.

"Detective Williams?"

A voice, almost as shaky and worried as his own, tore him away from the terrifying possibility of his partner not making a complete recovery. He raised his head and turned around to see Sara Patterson walking towards him, her brother in tow.

"I was in the ER and I heard what happened… how is he?"

The long-sleeve shirt she'd been wearing had been traded for a ceil blue scrub top, and her left hand was bandaged up to her wrist. Danny's gaze traveled from the bloodstained, tattered jeans to the brown hair tied into a messy ponytail that revealed her worn-out features and slightly unfocused hazel eyes. He almost reached out to grab her, afraid she would collapse, when Officer Josh Patterson put a steadying arm around her shoulders and guided her to the nearest chair.

"Too soon to tell," Danny said as he followed them and sank down in the chair next to her. "Doctor says symptoms of the trauma can present even days after rescue so we don't really know."

"I'm sorry. This is all my fault…"

"No, it's not. He would've done the same thing for me, for him, and the rest of the planet earth. That's just who he is." _Always putting everyone else first_.

She stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to convince herself the detective's words were true. "I'd like to see him."

Danny closed his eyes and heaved in a breath. "They, uh…they're not allowing anyone to see him yet. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after?"

Sara nodded and leaned back to rest her head against the wall. The fluids and the medications they'd given her had helped to partially relieve the headache and the dizziness she'd been feeling, but she still felt nauseous at times and confused as if she were walking through a fog. Not to mention the weariness that had seeped through her body since they'd laid her down on the stretcher back at the warehouse.

She had been about to drift off in the emergency room when she'd heard her brother talk to a fellow officer about McGarrett's condition and no amount of convincing on his part had stopped her from checking in on the man herself.

"Come on, let's go back downstairs. You shouldn't be up."

Josh was right. Sara knew that. Nevertheless, the Commander had saved her life, keeping her safe at the expense of his own health. She felt an obligation to at least make sure he'd be okay.

"I'm not up, Josh. I'm sitting down. And I'm fine."

A small smile escaped Danny's lips. Steve was right. This young woman was as tough as they came. She reminded him of Tani, who he had called a female version of McGarrett on her first day on the job and still considered as stubborn and unpredictable as their fearless leader.

"I'm serious, Sara. You're exhausted, and you have a concussion. Doctor said you need to rest."

She searched Danny's eyes again, looking for approval. He nodded, doing his best to convey reassurance that he wasn't really feeling. "Go. I'll let you know if anything changes."

"Thanks," she said as she slowly raised to her feet. "Please tell him I'll come visit when he's feeling better."

"Will do," he replied, watching as the two siblings made their way towards the elevator wrapped in each other's arms and hoping his own kids would be just as close as adults as these two were.

* * *

When the second day passed without much improvement, the Jersey detective's confidence started to waver. Steve's condition was the same. He was no worse, but definitely not any better, and there was no word on when or if he would come out of it. They had started him on hemodialysis to counteract the poor urinary output and prevent kidney failure. Temporarily, they'd said. Until the other medications kicked in and the organs got better. Four-hour treatments three times a week.

Danny wasn't squeamish –most of the time, but he was damn glad his best friend wasn't conscious to witness the IV catheter being placed in his neck and his entire blood volume drawn out through a tube and circulating in the machine. It was unsettling to say the least. The last time he'd felt so lost and… helpless had been during Charlie's bone marrow transplant, when the boy had been poked and prodded with needles so big he didn't think they should share the same airspace as his child.

Sitting in the chair by the bed, one hand splayed protectively over Steve's chest, Danny had done the only thing he could: he'd talked. As the hours passed and his partner's blood was pumped in and out of his body, he'd told him all about Charlie's upcoming recital, Grace's boyfriend drama, and exactly why he considered him an animal and a stubborn Neanderthal. He'd ranted about the water leak in his apartment, about the money he'd loaned his dad to fix the muscle car he'd indulged in during his mid-life crisis, and how their last case had affected him.

"Shoot a dog, you're going to hell. I said that, remember? Well, hurt a kid you don't even get a pass on that. No prison, no nothing. You just get obliterated into nothingness, like you never existed."

"I know what you're thinking," he continued, reaching out to touch the back of Steve's hand. "And no, I haven't lost my mind. I guess when you're a father – or a cop and a father, you put things into a different perspective. Oh, by the way, that girl you saved? Sara? She wants to see you. She's, uh… she's been asking to come visit. That girl won't take a no for an answer. Reminds me of you, my friend."

The throbbing that had started on one side of his head hours or… was it _days_ ago? had developed over time into actual pain radiating around his entire skull. Squeezing his eyes shut, Danny tried to will it away. When he couldn't, and even sitting down became unbearable, he started pacing the room.

Five steps to the door, five steps back to the bed.

Door. Bed.

Over and over.

Every now and then he'd stop to stare at his partner's lax face, at his weathered yet still impressive body laying so wrongfully still in front of him before moving again.

"I know you're in there, Steven," he said during one of these brief respites, gripping the handrail with one hand and Steve's forearm with the other, fingers digging in as if he could force him to listen and do exactly what he wanted. "I _know_ you can hear me so I need you to listen to me, you understand? I need you to prove all these doctors wrong. I need you to come back to us because this? This can't go on forever. So you just stop this nonsense, this… this selfish act and wake up, alright?"

Steve was anything but selfish and Danny hoped the ruse would draw out some kind of reaction from him. It didn't. His friend remained as silent and still as he had over the last 48+ hours. But on an unconscious level, the former SEAL had latched onto those words and held on to them so when he did open his eyes a short while later, much to Danny's utter delight, the comeback wasn't at all surprising and yet extremely welcomed.

"S-selfish? You really… called me… selfish?"

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter nine**

A/N: Thanks for the kind reviews and PMs about the last chapter. I knew you guys would like the story once it got to the action/whump part. Can't reply to all the guests but I have read and appreciated your words…well, most of them. And to the one who asked how Steve manages to stay the Head of Five-0 with all the injuries he sustains well, I sure don't need to remind you that every story is a standalone that fits into the show's timeline where he's barely taken a day off from work. I'm sure the Governor of Hawaii wouldn't fire him because of health issues but that's just me. ;)

Let me remind you I don't own anything, and this is a work of fiction so reality can be bent accordingly. Happy reading!

* * *

"What's wrong, Danny?"

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong."

"Liar. I can see it in your face. You're hiding something."

"My face isn't saying anything, Steven, other than you should really get some rest and let one of the nice nurses give you something for the pain I _know_ you're in."

As if to further prove his partner's point Steve shifted slightly, wincing as he did so and grabbing hold of his sore ribs. The ones not damaged by the weight of the concrete slab had been broken by the paramedics during CPR, leaving him in a world of hurt every time he attempted to draw in air or change position. It was either letting the painkillers mess with his brain or enduring the constant pain and right now, he wasn't sure he was up to it.

"I hate being stuck here…" he admitted in a soft, strained voice.

Danny sat down on the bed next to him and laid a comforting hand on his friend's thigh. "I know you do, babe. But you almost died and I don't know about you but it is _not_ something I want to go through ever again in life." His gaze shifted for a moment as he reigned the painful memories in before continuing. "Besides, it's only been three days so be a good sailor and follow the doctor's orders so we can all put this behind us soon, alright?"

The haunted look that crossed the blond detective's features wasn't lost on Steve who cast his own eyes downward and swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry I scared you..."

"Not your fault. Well, the injury part at least. Jury's still out on the going after the Yakuza alone in the middle of the night."

There was a long pause as the two stared at each other. Steve saw worry etched on his best friend's face, an affection that after all these years still amazed him, and something else that looked suspiciously like guilt.

Danny _was_ hiding something from him.

"You still haven't answered my question."

Danny stilled, debating for a moment if he should shrug it off again or share the information he'd been given. The determination in the other man's eyes gave him the resolve he needed. With a heavy sigh, he ran his hands through his hair and stood up. "Gaynes is in the wind."

"What? How did that happen?" Steve's whole body tensed at the news, and he jerked upright without even realizing it until the stabbing pain he'd carefully tried to avoid stole his breath, leaving him unable to move for a few, agonizing moments and spurring his friend into action.

"Hey, hey, lay down!" Danny urged, immediately reaching for the controls to raise the upper half of the bed and lower his stubborn partner down where he belonged. "I don't know, Steve, I don't have the details. I've been a little preoccupied with trying to convince your stubborn self to join us back into the land of the living. That son of a bitch hasn't exactly been my top priority lately."

Steve closed his eyes, breathing through the discomfort as he let his friend guide him back against the pillows. Halfway through it he reached out and grabbed a fistful of the other man's shirt, hoping to get his full attention and convey the urgency that the situation deserved.

"He's dangerous, Danny... You need to… go to the office, pull up security footage… coordinate with HPD—"

"Whoa whoa whoa, hey! Stop!" The Jersey detective's hand shot up in the air in a halting gesture while the other one rested firmly on Steve's shoulder to keep him in place. "See, this is _exactly_ why I didn't want to say anything to you," he continued once reassured he wouldn't try to sit up again, gently adjusting the pillows behind him and pulling the sheets up higher over his chest. "Team work, Steven. You put together a team of people, a very nice group of people, who are handling the situation as we speak. No need to get all worked up. They'll call if anything comes up, and I'll check on them later. Now get some rest. Please?"

Steve finally relented, his exhausted body winning the battle over his workaholic brain. He hated it, but there was nothing he could do. Memories of the long hours he'd spent under the rubble flashed through his brain. The one constant, the thought that had kept him focused other than the will to bring the young woman to safety, was the hope to hear his partner's voice. To revel in the reassurance that his touch provided. And now that he had it, he was unwilling to let go.

Hopeful, and a little bit ashamed by the sudden clinginess he was experiencing, he searched the other man's gaze and tried to voice his desire.

"Would you…"

Danny, ever the perceptive one and always attuned to his best friend's needs, was already smiling at him while moving the chair closer to the bed.

"I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

Steve was on edge.

Despite the tranquilizers coursing through his body and his partner's continued reassurances he felt antsy and vulnerable, and the dialysis catheter tethering him to the hospital bed was doing nothing to appease the sense of uneasiness that had taken over his thoughts.

The doctor had said it was his last treatment. His kidney function had improved enough that the machine was no longer necessary. In a few hours, he would be able to put this unpleasant experience behind him once and for all, hopefully along with the cramps, the headaches and the dizziness associated with it.

Danny had gone to the office to get an update on the hunt for Andrew Gaynes, promising to be back in a couple of hours. Steve had insisted that he went home after that, feeling guilty that his friend was neglecting his kids to spend time with him, but the Jersey native had immediately shrugged off his concerns and stated that he had no intention of leaving him alone until he was better.

" _Grace and Charlie know you're hurt, and they're pretty worried themselves. My very smart and loving daughter was the one who actually suggested I stay with you for as long as you needed it,"_

 _he said, shaking his head at the bewildered look in his best friend's eyes._ " _They love you like you're their blood, which shouldn't really come as a surprise to you after all this time."_

 _Steve sheepishly ducked his head. Eight years into their partnership, and it still amazed him how he had lucked out when he'd chosen Danny as his partner. What had he ever done to deserve those special people in his life he didn't know, but he would willingly walk through fire before disappointing or hurting any of them._

" _They're your family, Danny. I don't want to take you away from the-"_

 _Danny didn't give him a chance to finish his thought. "_ You _are my family, Steve. You're important to me too. My kids understand that I need to be here with you right now and they're okay with that." The initial frown of disapproval on his face quickly crumpled into grief as he witnessed the battle between his partner's brain, keen on proving that it could function without human emotions, and his heart, desperate for love and affection._

" _When is it going to sink in that there are people who actually care about you, huh?" he said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for Steve's arm. "Me. Charlie. Grace. We do. We care. And I know at least a dozen more people to add to the list so stop thinking that you're not worth it, alright? I am here because I want to be here, not out of some sense of duty or obligation of any kind."_

 _Steve nodded, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. "I know. I'm sorry."_

" _And while you're at it, stop apologizing too. It taints your reputation of big, badass Navy guy."_

 _Rising to his feet, Danny smiled as he squeezed his friend's hand reassuringly. "You know what I think? I think SEAL school really messed up with your head, babe. Although I personally blame your mother for screwing you over. Either that or all those blows you took over the years."_

 _The eye roll that followed the statement put Steve's mind at ease faster than any medicine. The familiar levity of the banter. This was how they showed they cared._

 _Giving him an amused snort, he let his head fall back against the pillows and watched his partner take a few steps before turning around to meet his gaze again._

" _Thanks, Danny," he whispered, trying to convey all the gratitude he felt._

 _Danny shrugged it off. He had done nothing special, just looked out for his family. "Try to get some rest. Be back in a few."_

Three hours later, the calmness he'd experienced in those moments was long gone and Steve stared at the tubes connected to the catheter in his neck as if one look could just annihilate them and give him the freedom he craved.

Insomnia was one of the side effects of dialysis, in addition to fatigue and low blood pressure. He was exhausted but couldn't manage to fall asleep, which only added to his frustration. Being on the sidelines during an active investigation didn't sit well with him; being sidelined _and_ basically unable to do anything but lay down in bed while machines did what his body couldn't was even worse.

He couldn't wait to get out of there.

A gentle knock on the glass pulled him from his dark thoughts, followed by a familiar face poking her head in. "Commander? Can I come in?"

"Hey, Sara…" Steve greeted her, genuinely happy to see her. He tried to sit a little straighter as he waved her in, mindful of his aching ribs and all the equipment connected to his body. "Sure, come on in. And please call me Steve."

Because of his injuries he hadn't had a chance to check on her and was pleased to noticed she looked a lot better than the last time he'd seen her.

The haunted eyes that had cut deep into Steve's heart were now warm and lively, glistening with a sparkle every time she smiled. Brown strands cascaded down her back and around her face, framing her delicate features. He knew it would take her time to get over what had happened, but she already seemed to be on the right track.

"Alright… Steve," she said as she nodded and hesitantly approached the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I've had better days," he admitted, feeling the weariness from his own ordeal settle around him like a blanket.

Sara tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault…"

"Hey, hey, no. Don't say that. None of this is your fault, you understand?"

She stared at the dialysis machine, studying the numbers on the digital monitor and the tubes circulating blood into his system. "Does it hurt?"

The former SEAL shrugged. "Not really. I'm pretty numb right now. How about you, you alright?"

"I'm good. My brother's not letting me out if his sight but I'm not complaining. He's in the cafeteria right now, but I know that he really wants to thank you and tell you how grateful he is so… you know, maybe when you're up for it he could…stop by?" She turned sideways and lifted the back of her t-shirt up to reveal a small handgun tucked in the waistband of her jeans. "Even gave me a piece for protection, in case I get into trouble again. Anyway, I, uh… I wanted you to know I applied to the police academy. Feels like a long time coming, you know?"

Steve looked at the Kel Tec 9mm, a smile curving his lips as he realized it was the weapon he had given Kono the day she'd graduated. Sara had the same determination and resourcefulness that had shaped his former team member into an excellent officer of the law, and he had no doubt the young woman would reach the same results.

"Wow, that's… you sure?"

"More than I've ever been."

"That's great. I guess I'll see you around, then."

Sara nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you will. Assuming I graduate," she added with a smile.

Steve shifted higher in his bed. "Listen to me, I'm very proud of what you did and how you handled this whole situation," he said, patting her thigh lightly with the back of his fingers. "You've already shown all the qualities that make a good cop, I'm sure they'll see it too."

Hearing those words of praise and encouragement meant the world to Sara. Everyone on the island knew who Steve McGarrett was, and having the Five-0 leader express belief in your capabilities was an honor very few people got to experience in their lifetime. "Thank you," she replied, grateful beyond words that Fate had put them, albeit briefly, on the same path. "For everything you did. I'll never forget it."

If he had stayed home that night instead of roaming the streets in a quest to find her, she was positive they wouldn't be having this conversation right now.

A shadow crossed her features as she thought back to those long hours of fear and uncertainty, to the nightmare she'd foolishly believed was over.

Steve saw the fear in her eyes and cursed for the umpteenth time the machines tying him to the bed. "They told you, didn't they? About Gaynes?"

"Not really," she admitted, taking a seat on the chair next to the bed. "I overheard Josh talking to Sergeant Lukela and asked him about it. That's why there's an officer outside the unit, isn't it? They think he's gonna come after us?"

"I'm not sure. He might be long gone, but you can never be too careful, right?"

"Right."

The thought had crossed his mind a few times since he'd learned the news from Danny. The now former lawyer would be looking at life without parole, so there was a chance he'd choose to go down with a bang through suicide by cop instead of surrendering to decades in a 6x8 cell in Halawa.

Steve wasn't worried about himself. Even in his weakened state he would be able to overpower an enemy, especially one with no hand-to-hand combat skills like himself. What he feared was not being in control, and the possibility that someone else – like Sara or worse, Danny – might get hurt while he was stuck here and couldn't protect them.

"You should go someplace safe until we catch him," he said, a serious expression on his face. "Have your brother take you away for a few days."

Sara shook her head. "I'm not leaving. And you don't know that it will be just a few days. What if he disappears for months, or years? I can't hide and live my life in fear."

"Then be careful," he sighed, wearily dragging a hand through his short hair. "You know better than I do how dangerous he is and how far he's willing to go to protect his business."

"Will do," she smiled, rising to her feet and giving Steve's arm a squeeze. She could see that he was extremely tired, and that their short conversation had sapped his meager energy reserves. "I'll leave you alone now so you can rest. Thanks again for saving my life and—"

Her heartfelt thanks were suddenly interrupted by a voice coming from the doorway.

"Well well well… if it isn't the two people I wanted to see…"

Steve's head shot up, what little color he'd regained draining from his cheeks.

 _Gaynes._

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter ten**

A/N: Sorry guys, didn't mean to leave you hanging. It's just been a busy week in RL.

Next and final chapter will be posted early next week.

* * *

There were two things Steve became aware of at once as he stared at their fugitive calmly stepping inside the room, gun drawn: the loud shrill of the fire alarm, and the covers shifting beside him as something was swiftly concealed under it.

His reflexes weren't back to 100%, and it took him a couple of extra seconds to put the pieces together. When he did, his gaze briefly drifted from Gaynes to Sara, taking in the determined look in her eyes as she stared defiantly at her former boss and at the same time put her hand over his, moving it over the small lump beneath the sheets.

Steve gave her a slight nod and sat up, twisting his body a little to the left to ensure that the pistol she'd just passed him remained hidden until he got a chance to use it. The movement jarred his broken ribs and he sucked in a pained breath, trying not to give the other man the satisfaction of seeing how much it hurt.

"Step away from him. Now." Gaynes' voice was flat as he addressed his ex-employee.

Sara held her hands up in surrender and reluctantly complied, moving away from the bed. She knew resisting him was futile, but at least her quick thinking had given them a fighting chance. Hopefully Josh would realize what was going on soon and come to their rescue.

"You know, I couldn't have hoped for a better outcome if I'd actually planned this…" the man continued, an amused glint in his eyes. "I was going to surprise you, Commander, and then take care of my lovely assistant here, but I see you decided to make things easy for me..."

Steve eyed the call button, wondering if he could reach it unnoticed. He was positive that the fire alarm had alerted the officer outside and would draw in medical personnel real soon, and hoped to have the situation under control before putting more people in harm's way.

"Don't," Gaynes growled as if he'd read his mind. "Don't even think about it."

"How'd you get in here?" Steve asked, gripping the sheets roughly with a clenched fist.

"Easier than I thought," the younger man shrugged. "Security's not exactly top notch for a military hospital… But just in case, I've created a little diversion to keep everyone busy."

The way his lips curled upwards as he spoke and the words he said made the hairs on the back of Steve's neck rise and he wished Danny would come back because right now, his options were fairly limited.

Beside him, Sara swallowed hard.

"What do you want, Gaynes?" he asked, lifting his head off the pillow and pinning him with a look that was a withering mix of anger and disgust. He felt the pull of the neck catheter as the motion caused the tubes to stretch and slowly eased back down. Steve McGarrett never backed down from a fight, but if those tubes got disconnected mid-treatment his abilities to take the man out would be even more impaired, and he couldn't afford that.

Andrew Gaynes walked over to the bed, pointing the gun at Sara. "What do I want? I want Sara to come with me. We have some unfinished business to take care of, don't we sweetheart?" Without giving her a chance to react, he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him as she stifled a gasp. "As for you, Commander, maybe I should unplug this machine, what do you say? See what happens?"

Steve shook his head, his anger mounting. Rubbing at his temple, he struggled to get his thoughts straight. He needed a plan. Now.

"Let her go. HPD is gonna be here soon."

"You're not exactly in a position to threaten anybody now, are you?" Gaynes sneered, pressing the barrel of his weapon to Sara's temple. She shot Steve a pleading look, silently begging him to do something as she tried to ignore the feeling of the muzzle against her skin.

Tension rose in the ICU cubicle as they all stilled and stared at each other, so when one of the nurses popped her head in to warn Steve about possibly having to move him because of a fire, it caught everyone by surprise.

"Commander, I'm gonna have to ask your visitors to— what's going on?" she asked, eyes wide with fear as she took in the scene in front of her.

"It's alright, Lani," Steve immediately reassured her. "I've got this under control. Please leave us alone." He held her gaze, instructing her to do as he said. The last thing they needed was another hostage, and he wasn't about to let the woman become one. "Go. And keep everybody away from this room."

The nurse nodded and hurried outside. A few moments later, the alarm was silenced. Steve heard voices in the corridor, a frantic chatter that he couldn't discern but no one else came in, a sign that they were heeding his command and staying away as requested.

The effort of talking made him cough and he grabbed at his ribs, trying to breathe as evenly as he could.

"Always the hero, right Commander? Always trying to save the day…"

Through the fog in his mind and the pain coursing through his upper body, an idea formed in Steve's head. Danny would call it crazy, but most of his crazy plans actually worked and since he couldn't move it was the only damn option he had.

"I'm just trying to end this peacefully," he said, his blue eyes fixing unwaveringly on him. "Someone needs to be the adult here."

Sara's eyes widened.

So did Gaynes'.

"I mean, you're not exactly thinking this through," he continued with a flare of annoyance in his tone.

"Shut up," the younger man growled, tightening his grip on Sara but shifting the gun in his direction. "I'm gonna kill you, and then I'm gonna kill her."

"No, you're not." Steve's voice was level but firm.

"Try me."

"Do you know what happens if you fire a gun in a room with pure oxygen?" He asked, pointing to the wall behind his head in which electrical, gas and equipment mounts were deployed.

Gaynes went still, considering the question for a moment.

Steve waited, hoping he'd take the bait.

He did. Blinded by a sudden surge of rage, the former lawyer let go of Sara and hurled himself towards the bed, grabbing the front of Steve's hospital gown with one hand and pointing the gun at his head with the other. "You're lying!"

Sara's scared intake of breath was hard to miss but the former SEAL didn't react. That was the response he wanted, the behavior he'd gauged. He grimaced at the sharp tug at his neck as the dialysis tubes stretched and the heart monitor started to blare, breathing deeply against the flare of pain caused by the sudden movement.

"If you don't believe me… shoot me," he challenged him.

Gaynes' eyes darted from the gun to the wall to the Commander's face. Those few seconds of indecision were all Steve needed to make his move. He grabbed Gaynes' right wrist and twisted his arm behind his back, causing the man to fall onto the bed and on top of him. Both grunted in pain but Steve kept going, his other hand reaching for the gun and twisting it away in one swift move.

Sara immediately moved closer, taking the weapon and training it on her ex-boss who was trying to squirm away from Steve's grasp.

Pushing thoughts and feelings aside, the Five-0 leader wrapped his arm around the lawyer's neck in a chokehold, compressing his carotid arteries and cutting off blood circulation to the brain. Years of close-quarter combat training had mastered his skills and he knew it would only take a few seconds to cause loss of consciousness so he held the position, detaching his mind from everything and everyone until he felt Gaynes' body go slack.

The man's dead weight pressed on his injured abdomen and Steve closed his eyes to ride the pain that was threatening to pull him under. Heartbeat echoing in his ears, he felt for one terrible moment as if he was still trapped, pinned by that concrete slab that had almost killed him. Then he heard voices around him, and realized he was no longer alone.

 _Danny_.

Danny was calling his name.

Danny, who had returned to the hospital with the rest of the team to the sound of the fire alarm and pushed through his own panic to get there as fast as he could because he would not, _could not,_ fail Steve again. They'd told him there was a situation in his partner's room, and he had spurred onwards even faster until he'd reached the doorway to his cubicle and looked at the scene in front of him.

"Steve!"

The surprise at the obvious signs of a struggle was quickly replaced by concern and he rushed to the bed, grabbing Gaynes' unconscious body and hauling him off to Lou, who in turn half-dragged him towards two HPD officers.

"Hey, buddy, you alright?" he asked in a strained voice, noticing the sweat beading his friend's forehead and the grimace on his pained, ghastly face. "Sara, get the doctor!"

The young woman bolted out of the room as Steve clasped his hand tightly around his ribcage and slowly opened his eyes, focusing his distressed gaze on Danny.

"It's alright… you're alright," the Jersey detective whispered in reassurance. "Just breathe, the doc's gonna be here soon."

"Gun…"

"Gun? What do you mean gun, what gun?"

Steve lifted the covers on his left side, showing Danny the small pistol he'd concealed under it. "Sara's…"

Danny nodded as he took it, not knowing if he should feel upset or relieved at the thought of his partner using a firearm to subdue their suspect instead of his hands.

"Didn't get a… c-chance to…use it."

"Of course you didn't, because hand-to-hand combat is much, much better when you've got busted ribs and tubes sticking out of your body."

He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth, even before he witnessed the flash of hurt crossing his friend's eyes. "Okay, I know, I'm sorry... C'mere," he apologized, gently turning Steve's head towards him so he could check the catheter in his neck, which luckily seemed to be still in place and doing its job. "You shouldn't have had to do this by yourself, I should've never left."

His guilt flared when he heard no reply. Yes, Steve was obviously in pain and having a conversation wasn't high on his list right now, yet Danny couldn't help chastising himself for leaving his friend's side.

"Just try to relax, Doc's here," he added a moment later when the physician walked in, a tight expression on his face. "Doc, he's in pain, please make sure he's alright." The last sentence came out more like a plea than a statement, but his heart was still beating way faster than it should and Danny needed to be reassured that this latest stint hadn't shaved more years off his partner's life. Years that Steve probably didn't have thanks to the medical conditions already affecting him.

Posture rigid like you would expect from a soldier, the doctor analyzed Steve's chart for a few seconds before checking his pulse and respiration rate, every action purposeful and precise. The same nurse who had alerted the staff and the police about the hostage situation hovered two feet behind, waiting for instructions.

"Detective, please step outside while I check on him."

Danny gave Steve's hand a light squeeze. "I'll be right outside, okay?"

The former SEAL briefly raised his gaze, noticing the concern in his best friend's eyes. "Yeah… Thanks, Danny," he breathed out before the doctor grabbed the oxygen mask from a hook on the wall and slipped it on his face.

Wondering why on earth his stubborn, accident-prone but incredibly good-hearted partner would be thanking him, Danny backed away from Steve's bedside and put a hand on Sara's shoulder.

"Let's go."

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**Epilogue**

A/N: As this story comes to an end, I would like to thank everyone who took the time to read and review it. Your comments and support have meant a lot.

As they say in Hawaii, "A Hui Hou"… "Until we meet again"

* * *

6 months later

"… _You woke up this morning as police officers, and I couldn't be more proud of each and every one of you because it takes a special person to do what you're about to do. Ke Kula Maka'I, the Police Academy, is not easy, because the job that it prepares people to do is not for everyone."_

Sergeant Lukela's voice resounded all around Kapiolani Park, strong and deep, vibrating with power and command. Twice a year, the largest public park in Hawaii named after King Kalakaua's wife hosted the HPD graduation ceremony, gathering proud parents and loud relatives in their Sunday best around the bandstand to celebrate.

A veteran of the event, Duke was always the one asked to address the rookies on their special day. His speeches had inspired hundreds of men and women over the years, motivating them to be the best officers they could be to make the Sergeant and the community proud.

Steve's eyes slowly roamed across the rows of newly appointed recruits, lingering on their crisp, new uniforms and their young, expectant faces. Eager and so full of hope. He remembered the pride he'd felt at his own ceremonies, at being part of the most capable Navy in the world and getting the chance to serve and protect his country. It had given him purpose when he had none and a family he could rely on after his own had been dissolved.

Drifting his head in the direction of the Sergeant's voice, he shifted his gaze until it came to rest on Sara, who was sitting right behind him, listening intently to the man's words.

When she'd asked him to attend her graduation, Steve had immediately said yes. Words from the instructors were that she would become a first-rate police officer, much like her brother who was sitting next to him, a proud expression on his face. She hadn't let what had happened define who she was, using it instead as an opportunity for change and personal growth.

Their eyes met, and she gave him a fond smile.

Steve smiled back, nodding slightly.

He would hear about the Patterson siblings and their accomplishments in the future.

He was sure of it.

"… _Being a police officer is a lot of things,_ _but easy isn't one of them_ _._ _It isn't easy for a lot of reasons, most of which you'll learn for yourself along the way._ _You will help elderlies across the street, but also witness horrific moments and humanity at its worst. And sometime during your career, you will save a life — or many lives for that matter — by putting your own on the line, because this is what you have been called to do."_

Danny crossed his arms over his chest.

Duke's commencement address was giving him all sorts of dejà vu and he sighed as he reminisced of another place and time, of another ceremony conjured up by his hazed mind as he lay bleeding on a hard, plastic table. He had seen Charlie that day, dressed in the same police uniform these young people were wearing. The boy had smiled, looking right where he and Steve were seated, and Danny had felt an unbelievable swell of pride washing over him.

He'd never spoken about those dreams. Hallucinations, or whatever they had been. About the sense of peace they'd given him while everything else around him was blood and fear and... pain.

Steve didn't know about them, about the vision of the two of them growing old together, their lives intertwined so much and so strongly that it was impossible to tell when one began and the other finished. In his dreams, Steve had lived a long and happy life, experiencing love and the family he never had.

That was Danny's wish for his partner, his best friend, his brother. For the unique, extraordinary man he had grown to love as fondly and as deeply as no one else on the planet. Despite the numerous obstacles fate had thrown into his path, Steve was still there. With a few more dents in his armor, but still willing to fight.

Danny turned to look at him, drawing strength from his steady presence and relaxed, allowing himself a few, precious moments of respite. They'd earned them after everything they'd gone through. He let his arms unfold and rested them on his thighs, wondering if they would really witness his son's graduation one day.

Together.

The thought was terrifying and elating at the same time.

Beside him, Steve smiled.

And as his mind flashed back to those peaceful memories, Danny did too.

"… _This job, your job now, it can wear on you. It will tax your mind, your heart and sometimes your soul. And it will be taxing on your families and close friends too. These people here tonight will worry about you every day. They will kiss you goodbye wondering if you'll come back home. Let them. Accept it and appreciate it. And if_ _something happens, when you have a chance, let them know you're safe. They deserve that much."_

Without even realizing it, Steve reached out and put his hand on his best friend's forearm, giving it a light squeeze.

Duke's words had hit close to home, digging up feelings he was still trying to learn how to deal with.

Danny had stuck by his side for close to a decade. Watching his back, reigning him in when he went too far, losing sleep and sanity over his health issues only to show up the next morning and do it all over again. He had accepted him into his life, into his kids' lives, without as much as a blink and a well-deserved punch to the face.

Steve had acknowledged that, and appreciated it more than words would ever be able to express.

And if the price for slowing down and counting to five before making reckless decisions was spending another decade —or God-willing, more than one — around him, then it was definitely worth it.

" _Your efforts will make a difference, no matter how small, every single shift. You do your job correctly and you will matter to someone. So when you get out on those streets tomorrow, just do what you've done for the last 22 weeks. Work hard, do the right thing, and ask for help if you're not sure what to do. Do these things and you'll succeed, making us all proud."_

" _God bless each of you for the courage you will display as members of Hawaii's finest, for the extraordinary services you will provide and the sacrifices you will make on behalf of our beloved community."_

Danny closed his eyes, reveling in his friend's touch.

As the commencement address came to an end, he placed his hand over Steve's and rested it there, savoring its warmth and the meaning behind the gesture.

Steve had made a difference in Sara's life and because of that, she would now make a difference in someone else's life. This was his legacy. As an officer of the law and a human being. This was why he would be remembered long after his death, which Danny swore to make sure wouldn't happen before they were old and gray and senile.

Just like in his dream.

When you find someone special you just hold onto them, and that's what Danny vowed to do.

Hold onto him for as long as he could.

" _Remember: Look out for one another. And be safe._ _Ho'omai'ka'i'ana."_

THE END


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